Angel and Demon
by LadySkarlettofSkaro
Summary: Arthur, a Guardian angel, is taken captive and turned slave by Alfred, a Demon and Son of the Dark. But Arthur soon finds himself head-over-wings for his master, and he may never want to leave him, no matter what happens to them. USUK, AU
1. Mine

Chapter 1:

Mine

When Arthur Kirkland first heard about the demons at the Royal Gate, trying to break in, he couldn't help but start to panic. Demons? Up here? Preposterous. It was ridiculous to believe; geographically, that could never happen.

Above the earth was Heaven, and below the earth was Hell. In between was where the living dwelled. Heaven was the land of angels, the powerful and peaceful beings that protected the mortals that had passed on to a new life. And those mortals were also angels; the only difference was some, like Arthur, were Guardians for a specific family; for instance, he had been granted the duty of protecting the Royal Family of the United Kingdom, his former home and, to him, his true home, no matter where he was located. And now there was a rather large gang of demons, henchmen (and sometimes women) to Satan, wanting to barge in and destroy everything.

With no thought but to stop them, he picked up his bow, checking to see he had enough arrows (perfectly harmless to anyone but demons and the like) and jumped in the air and off the small cliff of clouds his perch was positioned at, spreading his wings and letting himself glide down to where the Royal Gate was. And that's when he looked and saw the demons, Sons of the Dark, as the Guardians called them. Arthur landed as close as he could to the gate and tried to push his way to the front.

When in their demon form, nearly all of them looked similar to humans, as well as identical to one another. Their hair varied in color but was always disheveled in some way; spiraled horns protruded on either side of their heads, either directed down or up. Their skin matched the shade of the moon, lips a rosy, blood red and fangs slightly poking out of their mouths, with their eyes all various shades of red. Where the Guardians, the angels, had beautiful white, feathered wings, demons were bat-like, with three separated points on the top, and felt like leather. But once they transformed into their Beast form, they were faster, stronger, more of a threat, and simply too overcome with blood lust to take them over.

"Arthur aru!"

Yao Wang, another Guardian and best friend of the Briton, tugged Arthur forwards suddenly. His long brown hair was disheveled and messy inside his ponytail and underneath the lightly dimmed halo that floated above his head, gold eyes wide as he stared into his friend's green with panic and fright.

"We need help! Get them to go home aru! They no listen to anyone else! Please aru!" He begged, face clearly showing distraught.

"Yao, relax," he soothed his good friend. "I'll handle this, I promise."

"Xièxiè! Xièxiè!" He hugged the Brit tightly before following him to the front of the gate. Many of the Guardians in the crowd he recognized immediately: the quiet Matthew, the boisterous Feliciano and his brother, the cranky Lovino, and many more than he could ever count. But they let the two through quickly, making a small path for the two before they finally reached the gate. Arthur, ever brave and not afraid of their enemies at all, stood tall (or as tall as he could, at his short height) and glared harshly at the most likely hundreds of demons snarling at him. Yao stood beside him, eyes firm but fear still shown.

"You know you are not allowed on these sacred grounds," the Englishman began, placing his hands on two of the bars on the gate tightly. "Leave now, or else we will have to force you out."

"Oh~, he's a fresh thing," the demon closest to him sneered. He took on the appearance of a normal Son of the Dark, but a mask covered his blood red eyes. "You'd be quite delicious, wouldn't ya Feathers?" The rest of his gang cackled in laughter.

Arthur frowned, eyebrows furrowed in irritation. "State your name and reason for attempted invasion."

The demon, most likely Turkish judging by his accent, chuckled darkly. "Alright; you want to talk business, I see. I am called Sadık, and we would like some Angel Blood."

"Tough aru!" Yao retorted. "You not getting any!" He flinched at the glares he received, but otherwise didn't step away.

"You'd be most delicious," he grinned sinisterly, and gave a sniff towards him. "Maybe get some fried rice or eggroll with your blood?" He rudely laughed, followed by more uproars from the group; Yao only pouted with a frown. Arthur grabbed an arrow from the quiver across his back and aimed it through the bars of the gate.

"One more insulting word and I'm running you all through," he threatened, keeping his eyes leveled with the others. Another demon stepped up close to him, and Arthur resisted the urge to barf at the smell. Demons always reeked of Hell and blood.

"You wouldn't dare shoot any of us," he said in a low, seductive French accent, eyes half-lidded. "Alzough I would love to shoot somezing into zat fabulous little ass of yours."

"That's revolting!" He snapped with a light tinted blush upon his cheeks.

"Ah, oui, but you seem to like it judging by your cheeks, non?"

He tightened his grip and pulled the string back even more. "I will shoot you right now if you don't quiet yourself down." A few more angels that were experienced with fighting, including Yao, followed his lead, pulling an arrow against the string of the bow and aiming.

"Oh~, what an angel, willing to shoot a humble, lonely demon longing for love like moi, just to defend 'is 'ome." He sighed; "'ow lovely~!"

"Arthur growled; "Bugger off, you frog;" and let the arrow fly the short distance—

-only to hit the lock on the gate and undo it, dropping to the ground and letting the gate open.

"Wha-?" His bow dropped in shock as the French demon smirked and chuckled. Most of the Guardians in the crowd gasped, others either preparing to defend their home, experience or not, while some prepared to surrender (Feliciano Vargas seemed to have a habit of doing that, even when he was still living) or stepped back, ready to run.

"Ohonhon~! Merci, cher. Merci."

And with a single push to make sure the entrance really was open, the Sons of the Dark attacked.

Angels flew up into the air quickly, attempting to gain some sort of air distance between them. Some of the Demons transformed to make themselves faster and to catch more meat that way, and in no more than a minute, the gold-and-red blood of angels had started to pour onto their haven.

Yao and Arthur managed to escape together, staying closely side by side throughout the attacking crowd. As they passed, they saw too many of their companions being attacked, and the Englishman couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt as he escaped upwards: Feliciano cornered by a silent, threatening-looking man that towered over his shaking, weeping (and surrendering) form; Lovino shouting as a Minotaur plowed him to the ground before changing form back to a demon; Matthew roughly being grabbed and groped by the Frenchman from earlier; Toris, Eduard and Raivis being pursued by a tall demon chanting a strange assortment of words in what seemed to be Russian; Elizabeta captured in the talons of a large, black hawk, yet still fighting, even though it was obvious that she wouldn't be staying in their sanctuary. This wasn't a safe place anymore; this was a complete and utter panic-stricken chaotic haven to madness and pandemonium.

The duo stopped at a high point, landing gracefully and running along the platforms to the armory, where the extra weapons were kept. Both were silent besides their panting breaths and the screams that were heard from below them. But both were far from discouraged; they were determined to fight until they could move no more. And when and if they reached that point, they would still try to battle.

But their plan was disturbed when the platform in front of them was no longer leveled but being flung upwards, bringing the two to a glide through the air uncontrollably. Arthur bounced off a little further from Yao, landing on his side as blood started to pour from a wound on the back of his head. With a groan under his breath, he started to get up, but a clawed hand rested sharply on his arm, digging in but not drawing blood and causing him enough pain to stop moving. When he wondered why he had done that (for some reason, demons had a habit of holding angels with both hands), he noticed Yao lying on his stomach start to push his arms on the ground to get himself up. What his friend didn't notice, however, was the monster coming up beside him with a clawed hand by his side. The Brit gasped and opened his mouth to speak, but the demon pinning him down grabbed his cheeks with his claws to push his cheeks together and silence him. When the blond tried to look behind him to get a good examination at who was holding him down, he was once again looking at Yao, the claws now drawing blood from his cheeks as they forced him to watch.

Yao moaned lightly, rubbing his chin as a thin trail of blood dripped down from his eyebrow. The demon stood behind him now, quiet in his footsteps and dark in his motives. Arthur could tell what was going to occur, and whined to get his face out of the hold, but a dark voice whispered into his ear.

"I wouldn't talk if I were you," he calmly yet evilly mumbled to him. The captured angel inhaled sharply, trying not to tremble out of fear and worry. This was it- Yao would die, he would die, their home would perish-

The demon above Yao pulled his hand upwards, stepping back a bit, and slashed down, carving a deep scar into his back and slicing off feathers from his wings. Instincts took over him as he screamed and his wings unfurled, only to be grabbed by the bloody claw and clipped, one by one. His fingers curled into the platform beneath him, his back arched as his shriek of agony echoed. Arthur, who had shouted with him, started to silently weep, tears streaking down his face as he could do nothing but watch, wanting to look away but unable to. Yao soon silenced down, however, into small choked sobs and cries before passing out against the gold.

The angel holding down Arthur flipped him over so he was lying down on his back, the claws nuzzling into his shoulders and his wings spread out on either side of him. The demon above him licked his lips and chuckled. "You're more delectable than I thought you would be," he chuckled. He looked like most demons, a cowlick sticking up from his blue-black hair and his eyes pale red, an uncommon iris color for demons. The Son of the Dark grinned, licked his lips and leaned in close to whisper;

"Mine…"


	2. Captive

Chapter 2:

Captive

When Arthur next opened his eyes and his nose came in contact with the smell in the air, he knew the worse had happened to him.

All he could remember was the demon straddling him and nipping his skin—too many places to remember, all he knew was that wherever the demon could nibble without much movement, he marked the spot with his fangs—trying to get as much blood as he could from him before the angel passed out. He had tried to fight the monster off of him with all of his strength, but once his garment had been torn open and a sharp pair of teeth chomped on the lone buds of his abdomen, he stopped fighting entirely besides the few pounds onto the demon's back before finally falling into unconsciousness himself. So it wasn't much of a surprise that he would be taken to Hell as a prisoner for who knows how long.

What was a surprise was the fact that Arthur wasn't on a rough surface surrounded by dark walls, or bleeding his wounds out publicly. In fact, when he woke up, he was comfortably lying down on his left side, with his hand beneath his cheek and his wings settled against each other, tucked close to his back. When he checked his body for wounds, any injuries were bandaged up where it was necessary. He blinked back the sleep that had dazed him for who knows how long, and took a half-asleep sweep of his eyes around the room. It wasn't much of anything; just a rectangular opening that acted as a window and a plain, wooden door across from the bed. The smell of the room wasn't too bad, but outside the window…

It was without a doubt that this meant he was a captive now- it being common knowledge that any angel caught by a demon is made one- but he didn't know how to be one. It wasn't that he was dependent on others. He had been independent longer than the United States. But the thing is…he had been a Guardian for so long, that was all he knew after he had died and became an angel. How did you be a captive? Did you do nothing but sit around all day? Were you beaten and used as a toy to your kidnapper's amusement and delight, like how the demons usually treated the angels?

Arthur sat up in near-distraught as the memories that rose to the remembrance of the angels slapped him into reality. The last he could recall, he and Yao had been caught by demons; and there was no doubt in his mind that a majority of those that they knew had also been taken. His home with its beautiful marble blocks of gold and white, its peaceful atmosphere and his sanctuary after death: gone in a painful flash. He was not a Guardian anymore, not after what he had did. He and Yao had betrayed their friends, as well as the oath he had taken. The two of them had decided to worry about their own safety instead of assisting those in need of aid. Arthur himself had betrayed his close, kind, cooking-and-panda-loving, ever-so-joyful friend Yao, now probably dead, with his abused wings and the layers of scars that he most likely had. He was useless.

A lone sob pushed past his lips, and he covered his mouth with his hand, clamping his eyes shut as the tears pushed out into the world, their pale tints glistening against the pale light of whatever object descended light here. He was nothing he was nothing he was nothing he was nothing—

The door was suddenly thrown open, causing Arthur to jump in surprise and let his wings out slightly. The demon that had caught him now stood in front of him, and Arthur inwardly scolded himself at the attractiveness the Son of the Dark had.

His hair was disheveled, specifically on the top of his head and providing a type of camouflage for his horns. His wings were neatly pressed against his back, the tips showing behind his broad shoulders. His jacket and jeans seemed to be covered in layers of dust and grime, mixing in with the stench of Hell that slicked off of him and around the room. His eyes were a pale mixture of red and white, barely on the verge of pink. They had streams of mischief and desire and lust inside of them. All in all, he was a beautiful creature, demon or not, and Arthur blinked in surprise at his sudden appearance in the room.

"U-um, hello," he quietly greeted in a small voice. The tall demon stared blankly at him. He gulped; 'It's alright Arthur,' he tried to convince himself, 'it's alright. It's just a demon who wants me for his own. It's just a demon who wants to hurt me and I'm going to die here. Certainly.'

"Your blood taste good," he stated after their moment of silence. His lips were still a bright ruby shade, and looking into his eyes, the Englishman could see the truth in his words. Arthur blushed, wondering if that was supposed to be a compliment. He didn't know how he should react to it. Angels were always pure and hardly experienced with loving another, for all of them were often pure beings and cleansed of any spite or evil inside of them when they passed on to Heaven. It was the demons that performed the search for something to soothe the needs of lust and sex. Angels were inexperienced with such things. Nevertheless, Arthur decided to be a bit formal and gentlemanly, and at least try to know his kidnapper a bit better. "Er...do you have a name?"

The demon took a step closer to run his fingers along the angel's chin. The touch tickled his jawline softly, like long tresses of hair flowing down the side of his face. Arthur whimpered nearly inaudibly as the index finger's nail extended and curved into a claw, its sharp point jabbing into his chin to pick his head up. He bit his lip as his eyes were poked with water once again.

'Don't let him see you cry. Don't let him see you cry. Don't let him see you cry.'

The claw tilted his head to the side, examining each cheek as if he was thinking which side to try and get blood from first. Another hand, claws tucked away, invaded his shaggy blond hair, combing through it slowly as it fell through his fingers like sand. Green eyes watched as the thumb and middle fingers of the demon's right hand touched the halo above his head gently, toying with it momentarily; the Guardian groaned in reaction, biting his lip to quiet himself. The sensation didn't feel nice, but at the same time, as much as he hated to admit it, it didn't feel terrible. The Son of the Dark stopped his movements, tilting the head back to him and staring into the emerald orbs. "Alfred."

Arthur blinked in relief as the hands wandered away, vision connected with that of the other male. "Alfred…that's a very nice name," he commented.

"You're just like they described you." The demon, now known as Alfred, took a few stray strands of the enslaved angel's hair and tucked it behind his ear. "Blond; emerald; pale. Very pretty angel."

The Englishman blinked in surprise, cheeks already deepening in their flushed state. "O-oh, um…thank you for those words, that's very kind of you."

Alfred moved his head closer so that they shared their breaths, expression still blank, tips of their noses nearly touching and causing the Guardian to sense his cheeks burning even more than before, and to cause the Briton to sputter in shock and alarm. "The pretty angel owns nice eyes." His voice sounded a bit like an American, and there was a faint smell between the filth and Hell stenches that smelled similar to grilled meat and the seasonings and juices left behind from that, faintly followed by something sugary and gentle. It was as revolting as Hell's disgusting odor.

He swallowed loudly; "Th-thank you, um…," he tried to back up and put distance between them, but the demon moved closer, "th-that's very nice of you."

"Does the pretty angel like me?" He tilted his head and gave a grin full of mischief.

"Uh, well," Arthur's hands fidgeted, eyes downcast at his golden sandals, "I...I haven't gotten the chance to become acquainted with you yet, so...there's not much for me to judge...and therefore, I can't say if I do or not. I'm sorry." The next thing he knew, he was roughly against the wall with claws digging into his upper arms, a growl filling his ears, and sharp teeth at his neck. "A—ah!" His legs squirmed for freedom underneath the body that cast his shadow over him. "W-what are you-"

"You should be careful with what you say," he murmured into him, nipping at his collarbone; the Brit whined in discomfort. "If you say the wrong things, it'll cost you your life." His tongue trailed up the side of the neck, and Arthur shivered. "Luckily, you're too pretty for me to want to harm anymore than I have. So, I'll let you go for now. But I won't let you go unmarked so easily next time…okay?"

His voice was low and husky, causing a chill to run up the angel's spine. "Y-yes. I'm sorry."

Alfred chuckled against his ear, and removed himself from his prisoner. "Better." He gave one last suck to the pale neck, causing Arthur to buck forwards in surprise and cry out in shock, head moving up unintentionally and giving the demon more room to assault. The skin that was under the Son of the Dark's power was pulled forward, teeth gracing over its surface harshly, with lips slurping quietly at it. Convulsions ripped through the angel's body, causing him to tremble as if he was seated in a blizzard. Pants for air slipped past his lips as he gripped the fabric of the bed tightly at a particularly rough suck before the mouth was gone, and the pale eyes returned to look into his shining green.

"All done," Alfred smirked, giving a lick of his lips with lowly-lidded eyes. "Red looks nice on you." With a dark chuckle and a correction of his posture, he turned and sauntered toward the door, tall and proud, his devil's tail flickering at his movements. Arthur was too shaken by the contact and rush of emotions to even move a muscle, save blinking and his heaving chest. The Son of the Dark glanced back at him with an evil-dripping smile. "I'll be back soon, Pretty Angel. Then you can be all mine."

When the demon opened the door and exited, shutting the exit behind him, that's when Arthur let the brick wall down and sobbed into open, cupped hands. Angels were never made out for lives like this.

x-x-x

Arthur had lulled himself into a deep sleep of exhaustion after hysterically weeping at his luck and misfortune for what seemed like years. He thought he would be a Guardian forever, living his days as a friend to the Royal Family and eventually becoming a strong, powerful, reliable angel. He had hoped to perhaps become an archangel like Michael, to interact more with those living than those dead. But now, he found himself in the sharp, sexually needy hold of a demon, and it terrified him to the bone. He hadn't been so afraid since he had died, and that was a truly petrifying experience: in the middle of the London Blitz, cowering with his cat pressed against him, abandoned, burning flames of terror against him before a bomb finally hit a target enough to burn him and his companions to death. Luckily, he had been ridden of the pain, and he knew the whereabouts of his pets, but that seemed like nothing compared to what he feared would happen to him in the future.

When he next awoke, eyes crusty from his fallen tears and sleep, he discovered a hand pressing against his face. Stomach rumbling, he weakly forced his eyes to crack open. He wished that everything before had been a dream, that he wasn't with an American demon named Alfred but with Yao or Matthew, and he had just slacked off for a bit unexpectedly. But not everything could come true, and the angel found himself under the hands of the demon. It didn't startle him, more unpleasant than anything, however he didn't show the feeling.

"Hello, Pretty Angel," Alfred greeted. When he smiled this time, his fangs poked out of his mouth. His hair was tamer than before, still riled but neater than it was when last seen, the strand of a cowlick he had recognized before sticking up in the air and somewhat defying gravity.

The Englishman opted for not speaking, making a small "Hm" with a gentle, slow nod to confirm that he had heard him.

"My Boss would like to see you. He wants to see what you can do, test your strength."

"'Strength'?" By now, Arthur had managed to shoo away the daze from sleep to concentrate on what the demon was saying. "Whot do you mean by that?"

"He wants to test your strength." His smirk seemed to grow, eyes gleaming in a way that made the angel suspicious.

"Yes, I know, but…could you be more specific?"

Alfred only grinned and stood up, holding a hand out for his captive; the Guardian angel sighed and let himself be helped to his feet. He didn't think that he was going to be informed any time soon.

"Alright then. I'll go along with you if I…absolutely have to."

His smile beamed by now, eyes closed in happiness. "Good." He pulled his hands from his back and held them out. "I need to tie Pretty Angel's hands now."

"I, I beg your pardon?" He took half a step back, eyebrows in confusion.

"I need to tie your hands together. Can't have you running off from me, can I? Some demons aren't as nice as I am- I know demons who won't hesitate to pin you to the grounds of Hell and rip you apart to shreds until you're bloody and numb and limp and barely able to support yourself." His smile, despite the gruesome description, stayed in place, not wavering in the slightest.

Arthur blinked in shock, and a bit of stubbornness shown through. "I refuse to be tied, no matter where it happens to be." He crossed his arms to show that he wasn't going to listen to Alfred, kidnapper or not.

The demon's smile faltered slowly and carefully into a tight line, eyes taking a dark glint that replaced the mischief, still swinging on the heels of his feet. "I don't know, Pretty Angel. Remember what happened last time you disobeyed me?"

The Briton winced, glancing down at his feet as his left hand rose up and rubbed the mark on his neck. The sucking had hurt something terrible, and felt so strange to him. His silence after a while was considered something positive to Alfred, who laughed and held his hands outwards, gesturing towards the rope.

A short while later, Alfred was flying, balanced in the air with the long of piece of rope tautly in his hand, and a hand-bounded Arthur walked under his shadow to what be his first lesson on demons and torture.


	3. Assault

**Whoa, I did not expect so many adorers (is that a word? I got dirty thoughts when I wrote lovers XD :shot:) **

**Okay, who to thank so far? Loulybob, Mademoiselle K.G., RealityDreamsii, hexa, Lummierra, wooftmnt, ayanami-verloren, AnimeShadows, USUKforever, citrine sunflower, BlackWolf2Dragon, OtakuHarunaHimawari, and the band Green Day! :D Seriously, without you reviewers and "Blood, Sex and Booze", I don't know where I'd be.**

**But who reads these author notes anyways? :shot:**

**And, to answer Lummierra and I forgot who else...sawwy, no butt rape for Arthur XD Heh, butt rape...but he does get molested :shot for spoiling: Sorry, sorry. And yes...when I saw "test the strength", I too got dirty thoughts...involving an American, a Brit, and a lotta nakedness...and a bed.**

**Anyways, I do not own Hetalia blah blah, the amazing Himaruya does, I own the plot and whatnot and yeah...Also, I apologize for any bad French usage and/or destruction of the English language. As I said, I am a realist writer, so what you see is how the accents are said. Like how Japan doesn't say his l's, or France his h's or th's, etc. Sooo yeah, and now this is longer than the actual story**

**Enjoy~! ^-^**

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><p>Chapter 3:<p>

Assault

Arthur quickly learned that when an angel now residing in Hell, demons hated you. And he already figured they would, but he didn't know how extreme it would be.

As he walked upon the destroyed road, scratching and scuffing his ankles, feet, legs and sandals from the strips of lone barbed wire and sharp twigs, demons who either had noticed him, most likely sensed him, or seen the almost heavenly, gentle aura he held around him, and jumped on him- literally. They leaped from where they were previously standing and tackled him, clawed hands grappling onto him as if he was a piece of debris in the water. Some snarled and tried to sink their fangs into him, the former Guardian only being saved by the tug on the rope Alfred had, keeping him high above their reach, or his own wings to help lift himself (if he wasn't shaking too much). The demon above him laughed loudly as the prisoner once again floated above the needy hands.

The Englishman noticed the two of them eventually coming along a large, glass-domed, circular building that reminded him of the Globe Theater back on the Surface. The Son of the Dark glanced back at him with a glint in his eyes. "Are you ready, Pretty Angel?" He smirked at him. The shaggy blond gulped; something about the look he had been given worried him about what would happen.

The two landed gently against the dirt floor, and the demon tugged on the rope roughly, causing Arthur to be tugged forward and fall into the dirt, face first. Alfred giggled as if he was a young child that had just received a surprise Christmas present. The Brit huffed as he situated himself back on his feet with a few flap of his wings.

"Don't worry, Pretty Angel, you'll be alright in a few minutes~."

The angel simpered in thought, half-following, half-being-pulled along into the building and down a small corridor to a room. The stench of Hell grew even more intense with each step. "Um…Alfred," he began quietly.

"Yes, Beautiful?"

His cheeks burned with embarrassment. "W-wot does your boss need me for?"

Alfred hummed to himself, and laughed. "He wants to see how strong you are~!"

"Yes, I understand that, but you aren't saying how, Alfred."

"Hahaha~! Oh Gorgeous, you'll see what he needs you for~." He opened the next door they passed, cut off the long strand of rope but leaving the rest on his wrists, and gently pushed his captive inside. "You wait here, Beautiful, I'll be right back. Okay~?"

"Wait, Alfred-"

_Shut._

The door closed silently in his face, letting a loose sigh from his lips. "Oh well…at least I'm alone and not with those disgusting demons-."

"Arthur!"

A rough force rough suddenly tackled him, nearly toppling him if it weren't for a simple flap of his wings to keep himself balanced. He glanced down at what- or rather, who- had tackled him. "Feliciano?"

"I'm so sorry Arthur I'm such a sinner I'm never ever going to protect Italy's men ever again because I've failed everyone especially my brother and myself because I broke the oath of a Guardian and I'm so-so-so-so-so sorry because I never wanted this to happen but it did and I couldn't help myself because I had never felt like this before and I'm so sorry Arthur." The young Italian burst into tears towards the middle of the sentence, clinging to the bound angel tautly as he sobbed his anguish out.

"Feliciano, calm down, please!" He begged, trying to nudge the other off of him. Luckily, the Italian considered what he was doing and backed away a bit. "Now, calmly tell me, wot are you so upset about, Feli?"

The young Italian sniffed, wiping his eyes with his thumb. "I fell in love with a demon."

Arthur's eyes widened, and his breath hitched. "Wot?"

Feliciano inhaled through his stuffy nose with a nod. "Back when the Heavens were attacked, he cornered me and carried me here. I-I felt bad, though, because he took care of me while I cried because I hadn't seen Lovino in three days and he told me how he was looking for someone to love and how he thought I was so beautiful and then I started to cry because-"

"Wait, wait, how long did you say you haven't seen your brother?" By now, the brunette was crying once again, this time much calmer but weeping silently nonetheless.

"Three days, since I got here." He rubbed his nose under his bare, thin wrist. "I don't know where Lovi was going, though; some mean guy was talking to him and dragging him away and he was screaming for my help." The tears started to fall rapidly once again down the tan face. "A-and—I-I only watched him and cried." Feliciano hastily shut his eyes and buried them from view. "I-I-I feel so bad…."

"Feliciano."

The two rotated around at the sudden, new voice. Like all demons, his hair was black and his horns pointed downward, nearly invisible unless focused on carefully. However, his fangs were barely seen from his mouth, and his eyes were a pale, pale red like the first time the red is used in a watercolor paint kit. His upper body was slightly filled up with muscles, and he had a simple tank top and jacket covering the rest of his pale body. Feliciano gasped and ran to the tall demon, wrapping his arms around his waist. The Son of the Dark enveloped the shorter as soon as they made contact, pressing a kiss upon his head.

"_Meine liebe,_" he whispered into his ear as the shorter hiccupped into tears once again. "It's alright, I'm here." The cold eyes of the demon glanced up at Arthur, causing the blond to look away. "Did zat twig over zere harm you?"

"N-no, no, Ludwig, I'm fine," he sniffled. "I just miss Lovino."

Ludwig, the demon, sighed and bowed his head so that their foreheads touched. "You know I'm trying as hard as I can, _liebe_, but Antonio is a stubborn one. He too is looking for love like I vas _und_ he's already attached himself to your _bruder_."

"But Ludwig-"

"Shh, my beautiful Feli." He placed another peck, this time on top of his lips gently. Feliciano pushed against it, curling his arms around the demon's neck. Arthur flinched at their contact as he gazed at them out of the corner of his eye. The crazy, young Italian had dug himself a sinned grave, one beside this Ludwig. And it seemed like he wouldn't be coming out of it for a long, long time.

"Zere is somevun vaiting for you," the demon in front of him stated as he scooped his angel into his arms. "Just go zrough zat door beside you _und _you shall find it." Feli nuzzled into his neck, his familiar, bright smile upon his face, gentle and small. The Englishman nodded, and daintily stepped towards the door.

This was it. This was the moment he had been dreading, ever since Alfred had appeared at the door. Would he die or live here? Would he be able to escape? Would he be permanently scarred, or maybe permanently banished from heaven? He wanted to go home, back to guarding the Royal Family with his two Yorkies and cat and sit watching the little kids- the orphans he was assigned to, or other kids from around the area- that Yao would watch over, entertaining them with stories and games he had grown up with. Arthur wanted to see the light again, not the dark. He wanted to see home.

But for now, he was stuck in black quicksand, and he was moving slowly to the bottom. And if he had to fight to the top again to free himself, he would fight.

* * *

><p>When Arthur walked through the first door, he was greeted with a large arena-like stadium similar to the Coliseum, and by his grinning (somehow unconfirmed) master. Alfred beamed at him with squinted eyes and waved joyously, but there was something hidden behind it that made him stay on his toes, ready to strike. "Hello, Gorgeous~," he greeted kindly. "I have a surprise for you."<p>

The angel blinked in confusion. "O-oh, well, that's nice of you," he decided his words carefully, cautious not to screw things up like last time and receive another painful…whatever that mark was called.

"I know~!" Again, shut eyes and large smile that reverted back to normal quickly. "You have to go through doors today."

"Doors?" He raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

The demon nodded. "Mhm~! Not many, maybe five. You have to complete the Trials inside, and then the council is gonna decide what to do with you!"

Arthur nibbled his lower lip. Well, not too bad. He had gone through the training for a Guardian angel, he would be fine…right? "How difficult are the challenges?"

"Easy! Beautiful Angel should finish them quickly."

Again, his cheeks blazed with sheepishness. "And…what if I don't?"

Alfred cackled loudly, the first time Arthur had heard it _and _seen him do so, and it terrified him. His head was thrown back and his eyes were shut tightly, voice ringing out around the whole globe. The blond shuddered in slight alarm; he didn't want to know the answer now.

"Alright…I'll suppose I shall get started."

Alfred gave a grin again (something psychologically seemed off with his smiling) and the closest door to him opened. "Be careful, Pretty Angel~!"

* * *

><p><span>Trial 1<span>

The first room was completely covered in darkness, shading everything and barely containing enough light for the Brit to see in front of him. Even the aura he usually held was down. Arthur gulped; so far, he was hating everything about this.

Suddenly, the lights in the room were flicked on, and a paler-than-natural demon sat in the middle of the room, left cheek resting on top of his knee as he watched the Englishman. The angel blinked back an exclamation of surprise; where did he come from?

"Um, hello," he greeted the perched Son of the Dark. He blinked his blood-red-eyes, showing no emotion. Arthur's hands fidgeted with the rope that bound his wrists together. _Relax, Arthur, relax. Don't freak out, and maybe he won't kill you._ The Englishman bowed his head. _Well…this is awkward._ He glanced down at his scratched feet; his left sandal had one of the bands that crossed over his feet had snapped. He'd fix that later. Maybe Alfred knew a (clean) lake or pond or the like to clean his cuts. Guardian angels healed quicker than the other angel ranks. But that didn't mean their cuts could become infected.

"You smell veird."

"Huh?" He looked up in alarm, emerald eyes wide with shock. He hadn't expected him to be conversing with him.

"You don't smell like ze uder angels…vhy?" His voice was rich in an accent equal to that of the Ludwig character he had met earlier.

"W-why do I smell...different?"

The demon blinked, a vacant look upon his features.

"U-uh, well-"

"You're taking too damn long," he growled, eyes turning a darker shade and legs unraveling from their position, causing the angel to swallow his next words. "_Mein Gott,_ I had ze uder angels out of here in a minute, and here you are, taking up my time to soak up my awesomeness."

"Awesomeness?"

"_Ja,_ so you better be pretty damn tasty or else I'll kill you." He strode up from his chair to the Englishman, pulling him taut against him and shoving his fangs deep into his bandaged throat.

Arthur yelped when he had first been grabbed, but now he gave a nearly quiet gasp in surprise and to gain gulps of air. His toenails curled as he was lifted off the ground, bound hands in between their bodies and the toes of his feet barely touching the ground. The blood in his body rushed to the open spot as the sucking started, but then leaking up as it flowed past the path. Warmness spread around the bandage of his neck, most likely signifying that the blood that was being removed quickly was now sticking itself onto the gauze around his throat.

"Please…," he begged in a broken whisper. "Please…stop it-"

The demon grunted and continued to suck, only slowing down a little bit. Arthur's body started to shake violently, not used to so much being taken at one time.

"A-ah…!" He leaned forward slightly, the corners of his eyes clouding with darkness and his legs wobbled horribly, close to collapsing—darkness—pain—Alfred—

And the demon pulled back and held the drained, exhausted angel in his arms. He smacked his lips in what seemed to be satisfaction, and he smirked at the limp body in his arms, brushing away the stray strands of hair.

"Taste British," he whispered darkly into his ear. The blond trembled violently, lying in the arms like a ragdoll that had been thrown off a high shelf. The demon stroked his hair slowly as the door behind the chair opened. "Zink you can stand?"

The Brit glared at him, giving him a cruel answer with his eyes. The Son of the Dark laughed, and set his used prey on his feet, helping him steady on two. He pushed him in the right direction, chuckling under his breath.

"Good luck, _ziemlich!_ Say '_hallo_' to my _freund_ for me, _ja_?" He cackled loudly at his statement as Arthur winced, wings hunched over his body, and snuck into the next room.

* * *

><p><span>Trial 2<span>

The next room, unlike the one before, was fully circular, filled with light, and containing a pacing Lovino in the middle of the floor. Upon hearing the door close, he rotated around quickly in alarm and spread his feathered wings out, but changed his expression to one of shock and surprise when he saw the weak Englishman stumble in as if he were a zombie.

"What happened to you?" The Italian wondered in a shaking tone. His hands trembled the slightest, one currently having its fingertips nibbled on. He looked as if no visible, bodily harm had fallen onto him, but there was a nervousness that could be seen in his hazel-brown eyes.

Arthur breathed heavily as he dropped to his knees, wings draping over and hugging his body carefully. "That demon in the room before…," he panted. "Some of them seem to want my blood."

Lovino crouched down beside him. "You look terrible. What happened to you?"

"Back in the Heavens, when they first came…I got pinned to the floor and bitten…," he winced at the memory. "It's not too important, I'll heal."

The unharmed angel sat up, intrigued by the mention of the attack. However, Arthur ignored the look, and instead looked around the room for any sign of another demon.

"How long have we been here?"

"Only three days, not too bad, do you know where my brother is?" The blond could see strong concern for the frailer, missing brother. Lovino looked about ready to break down in tears if he didn't get some sort of info on his younger and only sibling.

"I-I don't know, Lovino. I saw him before I started, but he left with one of the Sons."

The brunette choked back the tears that swam just outside of his eyes. "I knew it, that stupid—" He placed a hand on his mouth as he let out a croaked weep.

Arthur took pity on the brother; he didn't feel it would be the right thing if he said that Feliciano had fallen in love with a Son of the Dark. But it would be alright if he admitted that Ludwig, whoever he was, was trying to get Lovino back for his newfound lover, right? "But the demon did say that he wos trying to reunite you two."

Lovino hiccupped, and gave a small, grateful, one of his rarely seen smiles. "_Grazi,_ Arthur. I maya have been mean and rude in the past, but you've helped me-" He took a deep breath to soothe his breathing, "so, so much."

The blond couldn't help but grin. "It's no problem. Just, wot am I doing here if there's no demon?"

The Italian's eyes wavered behind the other angel, and he gulped in fear. "You have to fly."

"I'm sorry?"

"Get up." He stood up quickly, pulling the Briton up with him as well.

"Wot?"

"Go, fly, now!"

Arthur, in alarm upon hearing the stampeding hooves, stretched his wings out and flew up to the spherical ceiling. Lovino below him covered his head for protection as the bull halted just in front of the crouched angel. The Minotaur huffed, stamping his foot, before his scarlet eyes wavered up to the angel, whose back was leaning against the glass ceiling. With a grunt, the transformed demon quickly reverted to his "normal" form, a naturally somewhat dark-toned, deep red-eyed demon. He smirked up at the Brit floating above him.

"Well, look who came out to play," he sneered in a light Spanish accent, spreading his wings carefully and walking above the floor as if he was strolling on a platform only he could see. "You look scrawny, not much muscles. Judging by your nasty wounds, I can tell that you've definitely lost some blood, making you weaker. Your hands are bound and useless, coming of no use to you at all." He glanced at Lovino on the ground, who was slowly twirling his hands around his wrists. "How long do you think it will take me to get to him, Lovi?"

The Italian looked up at Arthur, but otherwise didn't comment.

"Wanna see how fast I can make it to him?"

The blond, without warning, dove down to the exit as quickly as he could, wings flapping wildly but his flight pattern unbalanced without support from his arms. So it was because of that and the Spaniard's quickness that resulted in his tumble to the ground. Arthur grunted as a particularly badly injured bruise rammed into the ground. The demon jumped up as soon as his prey was down, and towered over the weak, groaning angel. The pair of emerald eyes glared at the demon.

"Wot do you want with the angels?" The Englishman breathed, eyes half-lidded as his body lay on its side in a half-completed fetal position, his hands resting beside his right leg that resided on the dirty ground. The Son of the Dark lifted a leg and placed his boot on top of his ankle harshly, digging the bottom into it. Upon contact, the frailer winced and tried to move to fix the uneasiness, but failed to do so.

"There's a war going on, Angelic Snob," he insulted the weaker one. "Can't you tell? The angel population is going down. Soon, you'll all either be too weak for life, imprisoned, or slaves."

The angel panted slowly, eyes nearly closing in exhaustion. But inside, he was screaming. What does that mean? What happens when the angels are too weak or slaves like him?

With a final glare, the Spaniard raised himself into the air and let himself drop his foot onto the blond, twisting it in a strange, most likely impossible way.

The scream Arthur let loose was loud enough to disturb the dead.

"Antonio, stop it!"

Lovino rushed over and tugged the Spanish demon off of the Englishman, but was pushed away. The Italian balanced himself into the air to regain his footing. Antonio, the demon, bent his head down so that his slightly curly black hair laid on top of his abdomen, and hooked one of his curved horns into his garment. He dragged his head down, ripping not only fabric but skin, and not only hearing the tears but also the cries.

That's when the healthier-appearing angel tried again and succeeded in getting his master to stop, as well as to focus on him. However, the demon shrugged him off. "Lovino, I can handle this, don't worry, Lovely."

"Don't do that, Antonio, I don't like it," he commented. "You can't just hurt anyone who looks at you funny. You have to let some things slide."

"Not this, Lovi. This is different. And this is my job-."

"No it's not, you're hurting an innocent angel!"

"This Feathered Devil is anything but good! He's scum, Lovino!" He glared at the trembling crying body. "And he should be treated as such."

He pulled Antonio's face to look at him. "If he's scum, then you can hurt me too! I'm just like him! We're both Guardian angels and we were both kidnapped from our safe haven! So if you want to hurt him, then hurt me too! Otherwise, you do not lay a hand on him!"

Arthur could only make out part of the conversation through the searing pain in his ankle. Lovino was…defending him? He never thought…he would…be able to do…such a thing….How bad was his ankle? Why was the room spinning? Why did he hear Alfred in his head? _Sleep, Beautiful Angel, sleep. Just sleep._

Before he could drift off, however, rude and furious hands pulled him up and helped him balance on his twisted limb and joint. He cried out in pain, wings furiously fluttering in a frenzied panic to try and ease the harmful stabs in the nerve system. The Spaniard mumbled something, but Arthur was only focused on Alfred in his head.

_Come on, Pretty Angel, keep on walking. Don't stop. You can make it, right, Gorgeous? Haha~, I'm sure you can. Just a little bit longer, that's it, keep walking. First left, then drag your right. First left, then drag your right. Don't slow down, just keep on walking, come on, Angel, come on._

The next thing Arthur knew, he was surrounded by darkness on a weak ankle, with the voice of Alfred gone and nothing to keep him company but the darkness.

* * *

><p><span>Trial 3<span>

"Hello?" He cried out weakly, keeping his balance as best he could on one foot and the tip of his injured one. Once again, the room was completely dark and he could see nothing in front of him. His labored breaths rang in his ear, the only noise he could make out. His used senses were focused on the pain, searing in his limb as if a knife was traveling inside, slithering around him and scraping his nerves. Swallowing to calm himself, he moved one step forward in a limp. _No one's here. I feel like I'm blind, I can barely see. Where is everything?_ Even his glow, like before, had gone out for now.

One of the feathers of his wings stretched against his elbow, and he jerked forward in surprise, nearly falling onto his face if it weren't for his manic beating of his wings to keep himself leveled. He floated a few feet off the ground momentarily, both eyes and ears once again searching unsuccessfully for some sort of sign that he wasn't alone. When he didn't find one, he gently landed on the ground, sighing quietly in slight distress.

"My~, looks like ze brave _ange_ was unable to defend 'is _domicile_, hm~?"

That's when a hand wrapped around his waist, earning a yelp of shock. As soon as it closed around him, he started thrashing around, throwing his hands against the arm that had been placed around him. His wings furiously flapped behind him, like the beats of a heart after a big race. Another hand, however, closed around him as well, holding him in place and restraining him to a large degree.

"_Non, non, non, beau ange_. You can't fight me now~, not when I 'old you in my arms."

"Let me go, please!" He ordered in a pleading voice. He shook as a hand tilted his head up by the nape of his neck, and a tongue licked lazily at it. "Pl-please; please, please! Just let me go!" He griped and writhed for escape once again.

"Let you go? Ohonhon~, _mon cher,_ I assure you, soon you will be begging for me."

Arthur groaned as his body trembled from the smooth tongue and searching hands traveled around his neck and hips respectively. One arm kept him close to the demon as the other journeyed across his stomach vertically and down south, towards the end of his garment. The angel shouted in surprise as a hand ghosted over his freely uncovered (save his clothes) private parts, stroking over them through the small robe he had on. Luckily, it covered up his bum and what was in _front_, so he had some sort of protection.

Until the end was starting to be tugged up roughly and held aloft, showing off the member and beyond. The Englishman whimpered and whined as a hand grabbed him, stroking him to life and causing him to gasp at how his body was positively responding so suddenly. His thin hips thrust forward, brushing himself against the fingers that caressed him. He cried out in astonishment, jolting as his scrotum and testicles were suddenly toyed with. His mouth opened to protest, but was suddenly blocked by the same hand that had wrapped around his waist, causing him to moan into it. The demon chuckled into his ear, nibbling on the lobe.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" The Son of the Dark whispered in an alluring tone.

"What are you doing this for?" Arthur shakily wondered, knees suddenly feeling weaker just by one stroke to the organ.

"I need to test you, _cher_, _non?_ It is my assignment from my boss."

"And who's your boss?" He cried out in pain as two fingers squeezed the tip, quickly bringing out a small amount of a strange, hot liquid.

"I 'aven't seen one like you, _Anglais._ I am surprised; _Mathieu_ and zat little _ami_ of yours, Yao- oh~, zose two were _tres magnifique_."

Arthur could only groan as the fingers continued to pump him roughly, back and—forth and—back and f—orth, oh God oh God _oh God-!_

He cried out and leaned his head back, voice rising an octave or two higher than natural when a finger unexpectedly slipped into the organ's front, nudging around as much as he could before grabbing the rest of the shaft and tugging harshly.

And suddenly Francis was no longer touching him, but Alfred's hand was traveling, brushing over his side and legs and face, and Arthur was suddenly screaming and moaning in pleasure instead of agony. His master's hot breath breathed against his ear, warm and gentle and whispering to him in a kind intention but deep voice, "_You're so breathtaking, Beautiful Angel. Show me how much you serve me._"

And with a scream of surprise at what he had imagined and heard, the pressure let up and out of the member previously being assaulted by the hand, the same warm fluid shooting out like water from a hose, continuing until it dripped down his legs and stained his robe and only stopping when he was left gasping. In exhaustion, he fell against the demon reluctantly, wings being tucked flush against his back. He struggled to catch his breath, gasping for air and trying not to be pulled into unconsciousness out of exhaustion. Who knew what could happen if he did, what with that…French demon lurking behind him. What if something worse happened to him?

"Mm, you are quite precious, _beau_," he murmured in the Englishman's ear. "I zink I may 'ave a zing for zat scream of yours."

Arthur griped. "You're sick," he weakly managed to comment before being dragged by his arms (which seemed quite impossible at first and brushed his wrists roughly against his front) into the darkness even more. "H-hey! W-what are you doing?"

"Oh, nozing, dear _Anglais_. It iz just a minor chance in location fo' you. I 'ope to 'ear you soon, per'aps scream _my_ name in ze possible future, hm~?"

Before he could reply to the comment, he was suddenly thrown across a small space into a dimly lighted room, bouncing only twice before he discovered he was not alone, and he could see who was present with him.

* * *

><p><span>Trial 4<span>

"Yao…?" Arthur, who was currently fighting off not only the searing achiness in his ankle but was also struggling to stay awake, noticed that, like on his second trial, there was another angel in the room with him. There was no mistaking that glow and sixth sense that he had, telling him there was another. So he gently raised his head, and opened his eyes halfway.

And that's when he saw both his friend, and the demon that had captured him.

At first he had questioned Yao's presence, but the more closely he looked, he could see the long hair and detected the sweet, delicious smell of Asian cuisine he always seemed to carry on him. That was the only way he could tell it was his dear, close friend. "Yao!" He shouted when he told himself it definitely _was_ Yao, and spread his wings and glided over quickly and closer. But he stopped a distance away, not just because of the demon, but because of his appearance.

Yao always liked to be very presentable and looking, well…good, meaning he hated physical work that involved dirt or the like if he was ever assigned a job out on the Surface. He had grown up in the cities of Beijing and Hong Kong, but his story of how he had died was a mystery. There have been rumors of him being a part of the first dynasty during Ancient China's time. Others have stated he had fought against a friend from Japan in the Rape of Nanking and had died in battle. Some have alleged he was part of the battle at Red Cliffs. All that anyone knows is that he is Yao Wang (or Wang Yao) of China, a panda-loving Guardian angel that protected the children- orphaned or not- who was also a picky eater, kind and caring, and one of the best chefs in the Heavens.

But if you had been in Arthur's place and had looked at the Chinese angel, you would not have thought it was the same person. Or, rather, angel.

The first notable wound he had was his wings, usually fluttering gently ever now and again, feather a creamy color, but now they were dabbed with scarlet and did not look so elegant anymore. They had grown to almost a brown color, and were drooping behind his back to his side. A litter of them lay dead by his side. His hair was still its normal, preferred length, but now it was matted at the top and tips with dried blood, blending in with his hair like mahogany in color. His porcelain skin was decorated with various cuts and bruises, his garment ripped up around his abdomen and dropping the scarlet-and-gold contents. His body was slouched forward, head leaning down and breathing a sign that he was currently unconscious.

Arthur would have cried in despair for his friend if it weren't for the demon that was suddenly standing above him.

"Herro," he greeted in a dark voice, blood red eyes glaring harshly at the imprisoned angel. Ebony locks draped over his eyes, seeming darker than the others' hair had been. "You must be Arthur."

"What are you going to do?" The blond wondered as he ignored the Son of the Dark.

The short enemy stepped closer to him, and picked the shaggy hair up through his halo before harshly tugging. The angel gasped loudly, body being pulled and held up. The demon was short, but his arm had enough power to have his knees buckling, ankles sliding on the ground and pulling out a scream. He griped as he was pulled over roughly, body dragged as his arms floated under his neck and he was dropped beside his friend's harmed body.

"I can't believe you would do this to him." He took a few seconds to catch his breath. "He did nothing to you. He couldn't harm anyone, no matter wot, and you had to hurt him."

"It was my duty to catch him," he calmly stated, footsteps echoing around the bare yet not empty room. "Just as it was Arfred's to catch you."

He glared at the demon out of the corner of his eye, slightly turning his head as his cheeks flushed. "Why were you assigned to do such a thing to us?"

"Because you and ozer angeric snobs do not deserve your rife at arr. So…we are taking over now."

"That's not at all fai_ahhh!_" Before he could finish his sentence, the thin blade of a sword scratched down into his side, digging in about an inch of the way in, before pulling out. He inhaled as the pain swarmed around and poured out slowly into a puddle of scarlet and wheat, blending in as one.

"An anger's brood, as it has been said, has za power to hear any wounds. Is zat true?"

Arthur pulled in large gulps of air as he tried to sit up and crawl, his body not responding to him, and he found his eye connecting to a shoe, sending him flat on his back with pained moans.

"You sound quite vocar, Arthur. Prus, by your accent it sounds as if you are British. I am sure you know your ranguage werr enough to speak it fruentry."

The Englishman, eyes shut tightly as a black bruised formed on his porcelain skin, felt a hand softly shuffle into his hair, stroking his face slowly and carefully. He gasped as the owner of said hand gave a grip and opened his mouth a bit to say; "Arthur aru…?"

"Y-Yao…," the bound angel sighed in relief. "Thank God you're up. I've been so worried."

"Arthur…stop fighting."

"Huh?" His head raised up slightly, good eye open, to gaze at the half-lidded gold eyes in astonishment.

"I kept on trying but he punishes you for it. He hurts you until you can't see anything but red and blue aru. And he does it so quick, it actually takes a second for you to think about what happened." The Chinese angel gazed into Arthur, and he could tell: Yao was mostly delirious. His eyes were too wide (wider than usual at least, and this time not in excitement or joy), and his face was paler than it usually appeared naturally. "You can't run anymore aru. You have to give up."

"Wot? Give up, I can't give up now, Yao. I still have to defend myself. Come on, please."

Yao gave what sounded like a sigh, and gazed at the demon without moving his head. "Kiku…don't harm him, please. He doesn't understand."

Kiku frowned at the long-haired angel. "Yao, so pure and divine…you do not see ze evir in anyone, and I rike zat about you."

He shut his eyes gently. "I know…thank you aru…."

"Which is why I cannot risten to you, my beautifur Yao. I have duties to furfirr."

Yao let a sob from his mouth, and covered his eyes with his hands in despair. Arthur's eyes widened.

"What a_h_!" He managed to yelp as the nape of his neck found a thin slice form, before an outline of his wings was put onto his back. He let in a breath of air as the sharp edge traveled first up then curving, downwards and completing by slicing off his hip like a snowball off a ledge. The same was done to the other, and before the blond could think, his hair was being tugged through the halo again, his ankle was knocked into the stone floors, Yao was screaming loudly, a mix of Chinese and English, and Arthur was thrown on his back like a ragdoll into the next room.

* * *

><p><span>Trial 5<span>

"Hello again, Beautif- Angel!"

Arthur was sobbing when he was dropped into the next room, pain coursing all throughout his body as his blood spilled onto the ground. Footsteps sounded off beside him, and the angel knew he was beside him, was there to help him, and he didn't know how to deal with it. The weaker male let a sigh out before shutting his open eye and letting his body relax. When he felt his burning wrists become undone in a flash, he knew what was happening.

"Angel! Angel, stay with me, Angel! Please!" Alfred pleaded as he scooped the angel into his arms carefully, holding him close and missing his injuries. The Brit gave a quiet start at the sudden movements, but settled back down against the warm arms.

"Y-your friends know how to torture an angel, don't they?" He whispered in a low voice, fixing a lone emerald eye into the pale red. He saw worry and fury mixed inside, and he felt…something indescribable as their gazes continued to lock on each other.

"They're mean and horrible, Gorgeous, I'll deal with them, though!"

"Just…don't harm Lovino…or Yao…and stop the war while you're at it, please…please…."

"Angel? Angel, no!"

And then came the dark.


	4. Informed

**Okay, so lemme just say I am definitely going to start replying to your reviews. It's just that I have to find the TIME to. But I'm at 32 for this story right now, and I'm really happy about it~! :D**

**Anyways, thank you's go out this time to: Little miss innocent liar, Pinkamena Diane Pie, Mademoiselle K.G., OtakuHarunaHimawari, Lummierra (smex in later chapters :D), citrine sunflower, darkangels1112, PartyInTheUK'sPants (love your username :D), wooftmt, and RealityDreamsii. You're all so awesome~! :D**

**This chapter doesn't have much action in it, really; more attempted-and-failed romance, so I'm sorry that it sucks balls...badly -_- But on the bright side, this has 37 favorites, 49 story alerts, and 2,563 hits so far. I'm so friggin' proud of myself :') :sobs tears of joy:**

**Okay, so~! I own nothing but the plot and the setting for Hell. I just figured a red sky would fit it perfectly, if it were to have one (does it though? I'm not sure...). So now Hell has a red sky. Oh God.**

**Oh, and before I forget, Arthur's views on liking a male are NOT mine. I could really care less about who you fall in love with as long as you're happy. I actually based it off of Catholic views, because the Catholic church hates gay marriage, so it is largely detested by many Catholics, even though the Church of England, AKA the Episcopalean (spelt it wrong) Church doesn't really care. I just need some giant cockblock for these two so they can go ahead and fall in love in the future and have wonderful shmexy times. :shot for spoilers: Okay, I'm done, and, as usual, enjoy~!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 4:<p>

Informed

When Arthur next opened his eyes and regained his senses, Alfred was in front of the comfy bed while bandaging his wounds with a touch like a spring breeze.

The weak angel examined the demon's face with half-lidded eyes. He remembered the events clearly (an angel had a rather advanced memory span)- the attacking, the blood, Feliciano and Lovino and how they were needing each other, Yao, Alfred holding him, especially- and despite that, he wasn't as worried or nervous as he would've been if it weren't for the Son of the Dark that currently had sat himself beside him, wrapping up the cuts he had. Somehow, he had already grown used to waking up and seeing him, and he didn't mind it as much as he would have. It was quite soothing and relaxing to see the placid, light scarlet eyes worryingly examine his body for any more injuries that he hadn't gotten to yet or had looked over by mistake. To see his eyebrows knitted in concern and his mouth in a flat line of concentration, the Englishman couldn't help but make a small little hum.

Alfred halted a little in his movements, took a few quick glances around, and finally looked over at the small, petite blond lying down. "Pretty Angel, you're awake," he exclaimed. Arthur winced from the slight yell and gave a nod.

"Yes, I'm quite fine. Just a bit beaten, but I can survive," he assured him. He suspected anesthetics to be in his body right now; he felt so light and happy like a pretty airplane _whooshhhh!_ "I feel a bit woozy right now, though."

"Those are the drugs in your body." A wide grin had risen onto his face, and Arthur suddenly felt anxious. "I had to repair your ankle a little bit and clean your cuts so I gave you medicine to help you feel better."

The green-eyed angel looked off into space. The way those scarlet eyes gazed at him sent little collections of happiness to flit inside his stomach and twist around like a tornado. That, mixed with the hurricane the drugs gave him, he felt wildly off and like he was continuously floating around, back and forth and right and left and up and down and all over. "I feel…so _weird_…."

"Haha~ you're supposed to, Beautiful."

"Is it…magic?" This felt nice. He could stay like that forever if he wanted.

Alfred laughed, sounding less joyful than usual. "Ah, yeah. Sure."

Arthur continued to stare at the wall, before he turned his head and looked at his hostage taker. "Did you know, Alfred, that there are unicorns in Heaven?"

The demon tilted his head in confusion, but then he smiled small. "Of course there are. I bet they're nice."

Arthur rotated his body onto his side, eyes animated and a wide grin of joy on his face. "They are! And they're beautiful! Their manes are soft and white, and they have the nicest personalities ever!" Suddenly, his smile reversed itself. "No one ever believes me that they're there, though. No one gets it!" He pouted like a young child who didn't get candy. And he had a right to! All those meanies were always saying how there were no such things as unicorns or fairies or that cute little Flying Mint Bunny that always used to snuggle with him. They _were_ real!

The demon slowly stroked his hair with a smile. "Sleep, Beautiful Angel, sleep. Just sleep."

Despite how familiar the words sounded, he found himself slowly closing his eyes and shielding them from the outside world.

* * *

><p>Arthur dreamed of Alfred for the first time.<p>

He found himself kneeling in a burnt field surrounded by the horrid smell of scorched, rotten flesh and blood. Bodies of what appeared to be demons were layered around him and beyond where he looked. There was a mix of angels and demons on the ground, as well as parts of wings and bones and feathers (and a large amount of severed horns). Weapons were scattered on the ground, encrusted in blood and ornate on or through bodies, and a stench of death loomed on top of the scene as if in a collection of clouds. But he wasn't' affected by the scene at all. He felt rather peaceful, in fact.

The angel looked behind him as he detected light footsteps, and he could feel himself smiling as Alfred strode over to his side. And when the Son reached him, he bent down beside him and grinned softly at him.

"Hello, Beautiful," he greeted him, placing a gentle kiss on his hand as he picked it up to caress the fingers.

"Hello, handsome," he replied back, and although his dream self was having no difficulty saying the nickname, his reality self was screaming. _Why would I say that, we're completely different races! We can't love each other, he's my kidnapper! I can't love him! I don't like him at all!_

But for some reason, his dream self wasn't panicking at all. In fact, it looked like Dream Arthur was…enjoying the affection. He enjoyed the gentle brushes of a hand, the sweeps of a lip against his forehead or either cheek. He shivered and cooed as a hand combed through his bush. He took the offered hand that assisted him to two feet again, feeling a slight bit more weight in his body than he was used to, but ignoring that fact and letting himself be tugged even closer than he was to the demon. And the whole time, Reality Arthur panicked.

_How is this happening, why why why oh dear, I can't fall in love with him, it's forbidden—!_

"Do you wanna run away with me, Gorgeous?" He questioned the angel as he ran the side of his index finger along his chin, endearment in his eyes and care in his movements.

"I would love that, Poppet," he found himself whispering to him, and wrapped his arms around the neck in front of him. "But as long as I'm with you, my world is perfect."

"Oh?" He quirked an eyebrow, but somehow, the angel could tell it was meant to be out of amusement. "Well, my world is you, and right now, there will be no flaws."

"How is it that a demon can say all the right things to flatter his lover?" His face was inches away from the Son of the Dark as reality Arthur shrieked, _LOVER?_

"Maybe because he has his feelings sorted out better than _his_ lover." Tips of noses touched lightly, past brushing against each other.

"I take that as an insult." His smirk held nothing but joking inside its depths.

"Didn't I say?" He leaned in closer so his mouth ghosted over dream Arthur's, sending a chill throughout his body and a whimper through reality Arthur's. "You are my world, my eternal, my love. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

And suddenly, as they moved close enough to have their mouths together and open, Arthur in reality woke up from his dream.

* * *

><p>Upon first waking up, he panicked and beat his wings frivolously in alarm, not knowing where he was until silk brushed against his fingertips. That's when he looked down and sighed in relief upon seeing he was back in the bedroom and not that horrid dream; anything was better than that right about now.<p>

His fingers twirled around in the blankets that hadn't yet been used as a proper bed yet as his body finally relaxed, reclining softly into the pillows and blankets. _That dream felt too real,_ he thought to himself as he yawned and started to daydream. _I can't believe that happened to me…th-that doesn't mean I like him, does it?_ A light blush rose on his face, and he hid it as he shut his eyes and covered them with clenched hands. _N-no, of course not. It wos probably all thanks to those drugs he had given me. It's a sin to love the same sex, all angels know this no matter wot rank they may be. And I'd take a broken heart and being faithful than a loved heart and being sinful any day._

_But…wot if it turns out to be true, that I really do like him as I dreamed? I never loved anyone but my pets and my country, and that has never changed. But am I willing to give my heart to someone and sell my life to stand side-by-side by this person like Feliciano did? He had smiled when Ludwig had decided to hold him. Lovino was able to stop that Antonio, whoever he was. And Yao spoke as if his connection with…Kiku? He talked to him as if he had known him for years, like he was talking to me. I haven't heard anything from Matthew, but I doubt if that's how that sex-crazy demon treated me, I can't imagine how he's been treating Matthew. He's not a fighter like Lovino acts like, or Yao when he wants to be; he's like me: if there's a fight going on, unless he absolutely has to, he's going to fight. Ugh…this is too confusing, I have to relax. I'm worrying too much over nothing. I don't know how my friends are doing, I don't know if they're alive. But I don't think I'll be able to make it for much longer. It seems like Feliciano and Yao both care in some way for the demon that kidnapped them. If that happens to me, if I fall in love just like Feli did…will I be able to accept it? Or will I break my __**own**__ heart?_

"Beautiful?"

The door creaked slightly, as Arthur turned halfway to gaze at the demon peeking from a crack in the door. _Just smile for him, Arthur. Just smile. Nothing's wrong with you, everything's fine. Just smile._ The blond managed a kind smile. "Hello, Alfred," he greeted him politely from his spot.

Alfred grinned and walked to the angel fixing his position, closing the door and sitting in front of him in the chair he had been using earlier. "I'm glad to see you awake~! You slept like you were dead! _Hahaha~!_"

"O-oh, really?" His smile faltered slightly, but he sat up nonetheless. As soon as he did, however, he cringed in pain.

The Son of the Dark noticed it. "That was a really bad chest wound you have there from Antonio, Gorgeous. I'm glad you angels heal easily~!"

"Doesn't mean it still doesn't hurt." He gave his chest, which was still covered with his small robe but was fixed up slightly, a gentle, cautious rub. "How long was I out?"

He shrugged. "Maybe two or three hours. I had to go back to the training grounds, beat the guys that hurt you, and get your test results."

At the mention of beating the other demons up, his cheeks turned a light tint of red, but he suddenly noticed there was a piece of paper in his hands. "Are those them?"

"Mhm~! I already looked at them, and they look pretty good."

The blond nibbled on his lip. Back when he was alive and still a student in school and university, he was the smartest in his classes. He never got lower than a B+, and even then he excelled in everything and graduated as the valedictorian of his class. He found himself studying on late nights at home while others hung out at a party or the like, but he was always faithful to his studies. So it wasn't much of a surprise for him to be nervously wringing his hands at the very thought of a test. Nothing changed much after death, it seemed. "How did I do?" Honestly, he felt he had done terrible. He wasn't able to do much but lose blood and get hurt.

And to confirm his fears, Alfred grinned with squinted eyes. "You totally failed it!"

Arthur wilted forward, eyes downcast and expression hidden by his shaggy hair. He was nothing; it was official. He was just a useless, young, imprisoned angel with nothing but a dying hope to keep him going. Now, even now, he wasn't worth a thing. And the fact that his hostage taker actually sounded happy about it made everything even worse than it already was.

"Well, not everything, though. Even though you have a low resistance to pain,You got really, really clean blood , and you can stay conscious for a really long period of time after you lose a certain amount, _and_ a high level of affection for someone you've known for a whi- what's wrong?"

The angel looked away. "Nothing, I'm fine, there's something in my eye." _Don't let him see you cry. Don't let him see you cry. Don't let him see you cry._ His hand quickly swiped under his eye. "It's…nothing."

The demon stood up and sat next to him. "Does it hurt?"

He nodded his head.

"You don't have anything in your eye, do you Beautiful?"

The Guardian shook his head, and shut his eyes to try and stop the tears from falling. He failed to do so, however, and found himself with tear-stained cheeks and a scold to himself. _Don't let him see you cry, it will only make you seem weaker!_ "I'm sorry, it's just that…." He sniffed, and swiped his hand across his face. "I feel like I've failed myself for not making an exceptional job."

A gentle hand ran under his chin and moved his face so that they were eye-to-eye, pale scarlet in emerald, and the latter resisted the urge to cry out in surprise because those eyes were so…. "Don't leak, Gorgeous. You did really bad, but that's good for you."

"Why's that?" He sniffled. "All I did was harm myself and be attacked."

The demon gave a kind smile lacking evil but containing goodness of heart. "It means you're still an angel."

And he didn't know why, but his heart fluttered at the words.

* * *

><p>The Guardian and the Son sat in a comfortable silence. They didn't feel weird or awkward sitting next to each other (although the former's cheeks were on fire, it seemed, in embarrassment at being right next to the latter), but otherwise it gave Arthur a bit more time to think about the situations at hand, especially about Alfred.<p>

_I have never been in love. I only had that once, and even then it was on inanimate objects. But despite everything else, I never had a human love. Maybe a crush now and then, but that was in my third year in grade school. Alfred hasn't been rude or mean or anything like that to me. In fact, he's been just right besides those two times. He seems…I don't know, psychotic? Insane? Something of the like. When I talk to him, it's like speaking to a child, and I don't understand why one bit. And he seems to be able to change from personalities; he can be dark and villainous one moment, and then friendly and joyous the next, and it baffles me._

_But wot really bugs me is, am I in love? My stomach twists when he gazes at me like a normal…being, he compliments my outer appearance, even though it is atrocious and not at all special, he seems to hate it if I'm in pain and I assume he would like to care for me and make sure I am safe…but he's a demon, a Son of the Dark, the Devil's Child, a male no less, and it is against the Guardian's Creed, as well as an angel's: do not fall in love with your same sex, for it does not show the same and equal passions of a man and a woman, and will be considered sin._

…

_That's it. I can't love him. It's a sin, love between an Angel and Demon. Therefore, it is not true. I am not I love, and if I were, it will not work. Feliciano and Ludwig may be able to make it possible, but I am otherwise unable to._

Alfred jumping up on the bed startled him out of his dream, and he gazed up at him as he stood on the covers, staring outside the barbed wire-covered window. "Beautiful! I just thought of something important!" He exclaimed, and held a hand out for the angel.

"Wot is it?" He wondered, catching his balance on the soft bed perfectly and standing on the tiptoes of his bare feet to gaze outside. The sky was a brilliant, deep, burgundy red, and seemed to be on an everlasting sunset before dipping down into a dark, blood red nighttime skyline. It was quite pretty once you got past the fact that it was rather freezing and there were hardly any stars out at what was considered to be night.

"Okay, see that mountain area straight ahead?" He pointed through the wire at a high, mountain-covered region, dusted with high peaks, as well as caves and small homes.

"Yes, of course. Wot about it, though?"

"I live right on this big drop-off cliff…thingy, and I was just thinking you must be hungry or something or…need to have a bath or something, right?"

"Right…and?"

"Well…let's go~!" He jumped off the bed by using his wings, and landed precisely on the ground, balancing on his feet perfectly. Arthur, however, pulled him back.

"Wait, Alfred!"

"Hm?" The demon turned around, a wide smile on his face causing his fangs to poke through and a shiver to draw up his spine.

"Alfred, if you live up there, then why did you bring me here? And wot exactly would you call here?"

The Son tilted his head in confusion, before giving another grin. "See, because you failed the test, I get to take care of you even more now. So I'm your master and you're my slave~!"

"Officially master and slave?"

He nodded vigorously. "Mhm~! And you're going to have to take the same tests again, only you'll have to pass through me _and_ you'll be able to use your hands."

Arthur contemplated this in thought for a few seconds while the demon gathered his things for him. "Alfred."

"Yes Gorgeous~?"

_Blush._ "W-where are we now, though?"

"That's not important, Lovely Angel. What matters is that in a few minutes, _you_ are gonna be happy! And trust me—when you see where I live, you're not gonna be sad!"

Arthur didn't know whether to be relieved, frightened or grossed out, but nonetheless followed his new master out the door with his (repaired) sandals on and his body close to Alfred for safety.


	5. Bond

**Hollo~~~! ^-^ I had to rewrite this a few times, so sorry if it's crap. :3**

**Anonymous Review Replies: **

**Pinkamena Diane Pie:**** Ahaha~ I'm actually doing that in the next chapter- though I'm not saying which angel it is~! :D**

**CelestialCiel:**** Why Alfred cares for Arthur? Heh, that'll be explained later on. As for the demons attacking the angels, that'll be explained (hopefully) next chapter. And yes- Arthur is VERYYYY cute~~~! :D**

**Okay, so: RainingPaperButterflies, Pinkamena Diane Pie, Lummierra, RealityDreamsii, sophiexskittles, Silena the Hedgehog, CelestialCiel, sapphire495, the blank reviewer that has no name :(, Aikroa: you rock. Oh, and so do you, 46 favoriters (not a word) and 76 alert people! :D This story so far, has 4,506 hits~, my second-highest story like...ever. And I am so happyyyyyy~! :dances: One day, I'll make you virtual cookies ^w^**

**But for now, I do not own Hetalia or any characters used (if I did, would I be here writing this? Pshaw! Silly persons!). I do own the plot and the setting or...environmental location or...whatever you wanna call it.**

**Enjoy~!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 5:<p>

Bond

Arthur discovered for the first time that Alfred loved to _talk_. How did he not expect this?

Having been dead for over seventy years, from the blitz to now, he never would have thought: A) he'd meet a demon; B) he's meet an American demon (which isn't the same thing); or C) he'd meet an American demon that talked as much as him, and in as few sentences as possible. And most of it was just a ramble of nonsense. But in the short amount of time they had been traveling, the angel had discovered that the demon loves hamburgers and fries and junk food, he's full-blooded archenemies with Ivan Braginsky, the Russian demon that lived at the edge of the mountain, his ancestors had been cowboys, and he had once found a UFO in the Grand Canyon (even though nobody believed him and said they weren't real).

…

There was more, but Arthur had already forgotten about half of what was spurted out of his mouth.

So the duo made their way to the large peak by flight, their shadows cast over the stretch of land beneath them, Arthur staying half a wing's length away from him. Demons from the ground, and even some passing by, jumped at him snarling and growling, causing him to momentarily lose balance before Alfred grabbed him and would sneer at the others in an equal matter.

…

Th-that was quite nice of him.

When they finally made it to where the mountains started to ascend, the Son of the Dark gestured toward a large lake that dropped over the edge of a smooth cliff into a small waterfall. Arthur gazed down at what he was directing at.

"Wot is that?" He wondered as they carefully and slowly swooped down.

"It's the Lake of the Mountain of the Three Fates," he replied, and leaned his body down before swooping upwards hastily and landing. The angel landed beside him, examining the jade-shaded water in suspicion.

"It doesn't look very sanitary." He took a whiff of the air; not bad, a little watery, but it was okay besides the fact that Hell's rotten and indescribable stench bled through it.

The demon shook his head. "No, no, it's fine! All the water looks like that~!" Again, a grin with squinted eyes. "It also heals wounds on your body too, so you can only imagine what it's like after a battle."

"Hm…." He bent down to the edge of the water and ran an injured hand inside. Instantly, a bright light blended in with his heavenly aura and gently attacked his raw wrist, enveloping around it and sending cooled vibes into the skin. His eyebrows raised in alarm at the sudden warmness, and started to pull back to stop it, but the wrist was shoved into the water even more by a barely-yet-present-clawed hand that scraped along his upper limb, causing more of the remedial liquid to work its magic. Arthur gasped as he was thrown off balance momentarily, but gained it back with a simple, small stretch of his feathery wings. He watched as his once raw, bloody wrist that was encircled with rope burn suddenly return to its pale, flawless shade. Alfred tugged his arm out, holding it so that both could see the fixed limb. "W-wow…it works."

"Of course it does~! Why wouldn't it?"

Arthur gave him a quizzical look. Well that was strange. Didn't they know about the angels? If they were imprisoning angels for whatever unknown reason, shouldn't they know a little bit about them? "Um…Alfred. Do you know anything about wot the angels think about demons?"

"Hmm…." His gaze wandered to the sky above their heads for a minute or so, before looking at the Englishman. "Nope~!"

_As expected._ "Alfred, we…uh, angels, like me, we've thought that demons like you live in caves and have…infected rivers or lakes or ponds, or none of those things, and lived like…well, lived like wild animals."

"Why would you think that?" He tilted his head in confusion, obviously not quite getting what he was saying.

"Uhm, well…." _Should I tell him the truth about what we think about them? How a large population of angels call them wild and beasts and other horrid names that would get us sent out of Heaven if anyone ever found out?_ "Uh…see, most angels are under the belief that you're all wild beasts and tha-"

Alfred had grabbed Arthur mid-word and brought him up close to his face, breathing in it as he bared his fangs and allowing his eyes to change to black. "Oh really now?" He growled, extracting a whimper from the latter. "You think we're not tame enough for you?"

"O-of course not, Alfred! N-never!" He trembled, trying to escape from the tight clutch. _Oh God he's going to eat me, he's going to attack me and hurt me just like the others did, why did I do that, oh God why!_

"Do you think I'm some sort of monster, Gorgeous?" He placed his hands on the angel's shoulders, and pressed down hard before leaning in and giving his neck a good pinch with his fangs. Arthur yelped loudly, and squirmed to get away. "I can be mean if you want me to really be a slave owner."

"N-no, please, don't _ah!_" The blond leaned his head back unintentionally, and a tongue started to trace up and down his throat.

"A bit too late for that, Beautiful." Lick, lick, lick, nip.

"A-ah! Stop, please!" Like before, the blood started to travel to the one stop and exit out of the small opening. He groaned in agony as the spot that had been abused at the first trial started to throb, beating like a drum against his skin and causing more whines of discomfort to come from his lips. "A-Alfred, please…stop…Alfred!"

The demon pulled back from the spot, but then made a grab for the recently repaired skin on his wrist and gripped the piece of skin against the sides where it met his hand with his teeth, watching the Guardian's reaction. Arthur whimpered and shut his eyes in pain, crying out once before biting on his lip to silence himself. Alfred smirked, and chuckled darkly, an evil gleam in his ebony-tinted eyes. "If you hold back your screams, I'll just keep biting you."

"P-please, just stop it!" He met the changed pair of irises with his emerald, trying to hold a convincing look long enough as the fangs poking into his wrist slightly embedded themselves a bit more, not taking any blood, but letting it drip out of the puncture wounds, down his thin wrist and arm and descending on its own path on Alfred's chin. "I-I'm sorry, Alfred, I'm sorry!" He held back a cry, and took a breath. "I didn't mean anything, I'm sorry I insulted you! Just please…please, just get your teeth out of me!"

The Son of the Dark removed his hand from his captive's wrist slowly, relieving the pressure and stopping the blood flow with a pinch of his fingers over the shallow marks. Arthur gulped as the eyes flicked back to pale red and fingers gently raked invisible patterns into his hair. A look of calm and peace was placed on his face, the total opposite of his actions just a few minutes. "I apologize, Beautiful," he whispered to the angel, lapping the blood from his face with his tongue. The blond shivered. "I didn't mean to harm you. I just got upset with what you said."

The Englishman was silent, eyes half-lidded in exhaustion from the attack and from the loss of blood. His body was weak, barely able to move his legs, and he noticed everything slightly spinning out of focus. He batted his eyes to try and fix it, but he found himself leaning over to lie down.

"Beautiful?" Alfred quickly scooped him up into his arms, caressing him and holding him taut against his chest. Arthur managed a deep flush of his cheeks and a rest on his shoulder. _So close…I can hear his heartbeat. He has feelings. He's not human, even though he appears to be. Maybe...Maybe some demons aren't as bad as we think them to be. Maybe he's just like angels._

…

_Who am I kidding, he just tried to suck my blood because I called him a wild beast._

Alfred ran a hand under his chin, directing his face so that they made eye contact. "Can I make everything better?" He asked in a quiet voice, pushing Arthur's bangs back carefully.

"Mm…" He stared into the healing depths of the water, noticing his reflection compared to Alfred's. Arthur's skin was a sickly pale shade, contrasting horribly with a bruise forming around his eye. His eyes were still as emerald as ever underneath his overly large eyebrows (which seemed to be extra atrocious today). His halo floated above his shaggy, blond hair, and the pure white feather wings extended over and around him, as if to protect him. He seemed a bit too thin to his liking, and he could see a few bruises from his injuries, especially his neck area. Alfred from behind him met his gaze in the reflection, looking just as breathtaking as ever with his ruffled hair and somewhat tanned skin, eyes so palely scarlet and smooth, curved lips outlined with blood. Wings jutted above his head, bat-like and pointed.

The demon simpered, and ran a hand along the Brit's face, eyes still connected with the reflection. "So beautiful."

Arthur shivered as claws extended from the tips of his fingers and poked into his chin, running its side along his face. Alfred chuckled into his ear, and slid the angel's feet into the calm water of the lake. He shivered as the warm and comforting liquid knocked against his leg and started to heat his injuries. The demon's non-clawed hand raked through the once sun-touched hair with a sigh, before leaving the bush and ascending along with the rest of his standing body. Quietly, the captive removed his garment, showing his cautiously bandaged body before discarding the clothing aside and slipping into the water hastily so as not to show off anything below his legs.

A light humming from upwards directed the Englishman's attention on the American, before he cried out in shock at the sight before him, and hurriedly covered his eyes with his hands.

"A-ah…Alfred," he began in a shaking voice, a deep flush coating his cheeks. "U-uhm…y-y-you have no clothes on."

"Hm?" The demon took a moment, probably to examine himself, before speaking again. "I am naked."

"Mhm." He tried to scoot back away from the demon, but failed with each movement while the taller climbed into the water. "I-it would be nice to get some space, if you don't mind."

"Hm; no, I don't mind."

Arthur swallowed the unnerving lump in his throat. "W-well, I would like to have a quick, um…bath to myself for a bit."

"So?" Alfred scooted a bit closer, and managed to hold his hand, before planting a gentle kiss on the top of his hand. The blushing captive, hands now free of what they had been doing, now kept his eyes tightly shut, still hiding the (beautiful, irresistible, amazing) mental picture of the muscles he would find, depending on how his chest looked at first and second glances. "Beautiful, open your eyes. I wanna see how pretty you are."

Arthur groaned loudly, and, with the worse hesitation, managed to open his eyes.

The sight before him was one that he had never witnessed before. The skin was smooth and lightly tanned, stretched over his body like a plain. The biceps located on his arms were slim on his body and seemed as if they had come in handy many times. His chest was not one to complain about, smooth and perfectly shaped upon him. The indents of their locations were precise and curved downwards, as if to mimic a valley. Their appearance told him they most likely made a good comfort pillow, with their well-formed appearance of a statue. Arthur almost found it difficult to look away.

Almost.

_Oh dear God…h-he's….No, stop it! You are not going to fall heel-over-wings for him! Don't become unfaithful; stay loyal to your beliefs!_

He gulped a knot in his throat to ease the tension in the area, and managed a weak smile. Alfred leaned in to his ear closely.

"There's that smile…so beautiful."

"A-ah, yes, um…thank you."

The demon looked back so they were face-to-face again, and grinned. "Your eyes are so pretty, Gorgeous…" He picked up a nearby seashell, collecting water into it. "They're so…enchanting." He turned the angel's body so that he faced his wings, and tilted Arthur's head back slightly to let the water from the shell spill downwards from his bush of hair.

"I…I noticed that you never use my name." He flinched as his halo was purposely touched.

"Yes I do, Beautiful." _Pour._

_Blush. _"No, I mean…my name is Arthur."

"Oh?" He paused a second, the shell halfway to its destination. "I didn't know that. I just knew you as Beautiful."

After the water dispensed down his back in between his wings, the Englishman turned his head so that he could face him properly. "Didn't you get my test results? That should've had my name."

"They had your serial number." _Pour._

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and concentration. "They…didn't say 'Arthur'?"

"Of course not. Depending on a demon's motives, you can either have demons that call their slaves by a name and have them as a personal servant, like me, or you can make them work hard and call them as something mean."

"Oh…w-wow…." Curiosity struck him, and he rotated around. "Alfred, wot's my serial number?"

"Seven-zero-four out of a thousand ten."

Arthur felt his heart skip a few beats in shock. One thousand ten? As in angels? Or did it reference to prisoners? "Alfred-"

"Pretty Angel, you need a new name."

The blond turned around in astonishment, seeing his master with a bottle of (what he hoped was) soap, ready to pour it in his hands. "W-why?" _How did he change topics so quickly?_

"Because I don't want to keep on using the same words to describe how attractive you are."

_Burning flush._ "N-no, I think I'm just fine, Alfred."

The American pouted with a loud "hmph", and started to scrub the Brit's hair carefully despite his attitude. "That's not fair."

He chuckled under his breath. "You'll understand one day. Believe me."

"You treat me like a kid." There was a hint of amusement to his voice, causing Arthur to let a laugh out.

"Ah, yes, I suppose so. I suspect it's just instinct."

The hands left his hair and instead, the demon peeked around to look at the Englishman.

The blond looked over and repeated the sound. "Wot's wrong?"

"Your laugh…."

"Yeah?"

Alfred smiled. "It's beautiful, Elegant Rose."

Before the red-cheeked guardian could speak, the hands returned to his hair, and the topic had dropped, leaving the Englishman to think just how Alfred cared about him.


	6. Truth

**I can never thank you readers enough for reading my story. Same goes for my reviewers, favoriters (I know it's not a word) and alter persons. It's all thanks to you guys I have 6,376 hits, 56 favorites WOWWWWW, and 82 alerts.**

**Do I like bragging about my stories?**

**Oh yes.**

**...**

**Sorry XD**

**So, anyways, I'm headin' over to Vegas for a family thingie. Not too happy 'bout that. My grandmother is so mean to me! Her presence can melt snow! And I love snow...So before I fall asleep sitting up here, thinking about how I'm going to beg my dad to bring us to Caesar's palace just so we can see it and I can say "Hey, I know you get this a lot...but did the real Caesar actually live here?" XD I am a nerd.**

**So: lotta Franada in this chapter, literally. Sorta takes a break on our troubled couple for a bit, right? Also, I'm falling asleep as I'm typing, so sorry if it sounds like crap. That's mine own fault. But anyways, ****I own no one but I own the plot and idea. :3 So, read on and e****njoy~!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 6:<p>

Truth

Matthew Williams was in love with a demon.

He didn't know how it had happen, or when during the short amount of time he had been in Hell. He just knew that he dreaded even the thought of being separated from _him_. He who cared for him so dearly, who cherished every moment they had together, who made sure he wasn't in pain when he entered him and sent them both on waves of pleasure, who made sure he was always reminded that he was the most beautiful person ever created. And Matthew could care less that he was (supposedly, by his demon lover's two closet friends) the Demon King of Perverts, otherwise known as Francis Bonnefoy. Francis was so kind and nice to him, and he stated once that he had seen Matthew grow into something beautiful before his death during World War II. It was almost scary: the demon seemed to know a lot about the angel, who had only been harmed when he had taken the trials. Francis knew every sickness, every birthday, every time someone would mistake him for his half-brother, every time he would look at himself in the mirror and wonder if he was any sort of good-looking. The Son of the Dark seemed to know him like he was him.

Apparently, somehow, Francis had once been an angel like Matthew, pure and a virgin (after death). His death was one that was quite ridiculous: had been killed by a silly cold that he hadn't taken care of after the Eiffel Tower was built and had watched the young Canadian since his birth in the mid-1920s. However, his charms and romantic needs got the best of him, and a flirt with too many higher-ranked angels and a single disobey sent him down and falling from grace and alone, banished from Heaven and stuck in the beginning of the 1900s onwards, never again to roam in the haven again. However, another angel followed him, literally: Antonio Carriedo, a kind and tomato-loving Spanish male who apparently was continuously happy, and had also gotten himself into the same situation. Like Francis, he too had watched over someone, a Lovino Vargas, and had fallen in love with him as Francis had with Matthew. The two fallen angels, with nowhere to go, wandered the streets of Paris and Madrid and other highly populated cities of Europe, hoping to find their two loves that they had watched, but not succeeding. And then, in the early-1900s, when they also nearly got killed in the assassination of Franz Ferdinand and his wife, that's when they met Gilbert Beilschmidt, a Prussian demon ("not German", he had said upon their first meeting and them hearing his accent) that was watching the event unfold. He promised them they could once again see the two they had fallen for if they forgot their statuses and changed sides, and the next thing they knew, their haloes and wings had gone, replaced with horns, batwings and a long pointed tail, and the trio was inseparable. From then on, they caused mayhem in cities and towns on the Surface, and Francis and Antonio still looked, but failed to find their crushes until now, after years and years of having given up.

And Matthew didn't mind that he had been supposedly stalked when he was still living. At times, he watched the living thrive and survive, feeling a surge of pride at them. Nonetheless, when Francis had told him his story, the angel had actually gotten himself into hysterics, wondering how this had happened to him, but when the Frenchman confessed his feelings for him, that was all it took for the Guardian to find the demon above him, kissing him and pressing into him. And it was the most exhilarating experience he had ever undergone.

The previous night, the two had been at it once again, tearing at each other with lips and hands and teeth and wings, not wanting sleep to overcome them if this was all a dream. Matthew feared he would be back in Heaven, with his polar bear he couldn't name pawing at him and the other animals he had taken care of. And his fears were confirmed to be false when he woke up in the arms of his beloved, just like he had been promised. Francis had said that he would be here when he awoke, and there he was, beside him, sleeping peacefully, a demonic angel in the glow the unusual blood red sky gave through the window. The Canadian sat himself up slightly, and placed a kiss on the side of his mouth. The Frenchman shuffled around in his sleep and sighed, a smile upon his features. The aforementioned male grinned, and carefully eased himself out of the hold and to the small yet very convenient and reliable kitchen.

Since he had first gotten there, Francis would rise in the late afternoon (seeming to be one of his habits) and proceeded to make them something delicious to eat. Somehow, he knew Matthew's favorites, and was so far doing an excellent job and making it wonderful and perfect in every way he could. Now, the latter figured he owed his "master" (yet they hardly acted like slave and owner) something for being so hospitable to him while he was staying in the Frenchman's cozy alcove-like home. Plus, he was French-Canadian; that had to count for something, right?

Matthew had thrown a bathrobe that barely slipped past his arms (his angel garment had been dirtied quite a few times, especially last night…which reminded him, he should go clean that in a minute) and he had started gathering ingredients what he hoped would be a good enough breakfast for the gourmet demon. He always wanted to make sure someone was pleased, one way or another, and whether or not they recognized him. As long as they were both happy and well, than the Canadian was fine.

"Oh~? Wat is zis? Did someone sneak off from bed?"

A warm pair of arms snaked around his waist and hugged him, not too tight but not too careful. Matthew smiled and chuckled, and leaned his head back so their lips could connect sweetly. "I thought I'd make you something," he mumbled against his mouth, and Francis laughed quietly.

"You do not 'ave to do zat, _mon amour_. You are not a slave to me; you are my love;" he placed a kiss to his neck, "and you will always be _mon amour_ if zings go ze way we planned."

The angel smiled and connected their lips again, moving his arms to around his neck and pulling the face closer. Francis' hands wandered over and pressed his hips against his lover's, eliciting a moan from him. Matthew, only having the robe, rubbed their lower halves against each other, and the Frenchman chuckled.

"_Désolé, amour_, but we 'ave business to take care of."

"The business can wait." His fingers fumbled with the fashionable pair of pants (who knew that even demons wanted to look good while they tried to kill you?) that was on the other's waist. "You have some other business to deal with." The demon only laughed.

"Oh do I~?" He pressed their foreheads together, staring with his bright red eyes into the Canadian's violet and sending chills down the said male's back. "Well zen, maybe I should take care of it."

"_Oui, s'il vous plait!_" Matthew sighed as his neck was suddenly assaulted with a needy mouth, sucking and nipping before smoothing over the patch of skin. The two fell against the counter and to the ground, the robe and other articles of clothing discarded behind the dark-haired male hastily.

* * *

><p>The duo didn't leave the cozy little adobe until two hours later, after they had screamed out their pleasures to the Surface and beyond and been spent.<p>

Twice.

Maybe even three.

Definitely-maybe three.

Almost a fourth time, but then they remembered there were others waiting for them to get done with any _real_ business they had to do. Francis had an important duty (to the demons, at least) that was only necessary when there was going to be an invasion of some sort. He was the one that went around to tell the others where, who and why they were attacking the specific area, the orders given to that demon (what (s)he was supposed to), and what would happen after the invasion. And in about a few days' time, they would once again be traveling to the Surface and taking more lives, destroying homes and ravishing cities and countries. And Matthew found himself more worried for the safety of his lover than anything else.

"_Beau cher,_ I am stronger zan you zink I am," he had told him just a day ago when the angel had first discovered he would be leaving for a few days coming up. "I can take perfect care of myself, _amour_." But despite the fact that the two had then gone into an amazing snogging session, the Canadian couldn't send the worry away.

After cleaning their mess up and making themselves presentable, the duo left the house and were off. Judging by the fact that Alfred was the closest home to him, Francis would travel to him first, jumping off the cliff his adobe stood on and swooping around to then pick his love up from the drop-off. When they had first arrived, Matthew had scraped his wings back, dislocating them slightly and pulling a few feathers. They had already been put into their proper places, but they were still sore and only able to perform minimal movements without getting harmed. Plus, he adored the feeling of being carried.

It didn't take very long to get to Alfred; just about two minutes (the Mountain of the Three Fates was gigantic), but when they discovered the demon, they were surprised to find out that he wasn't alone. In fact, the angel's eyes went wide as they crouched down beside the collection of boulders, watching the American demon carefully clean a blushing, blond angel. The Canadian looked at his lover, whose eyebrows were raised in shock. "That's…," he began, and the Frenchman nodded. "But…why?"

"Eh, you remember Ludwig and Feliciano, _non_?" He began, and continued when his lover nodded. "Well, Alfred is za same as Ludwig. See? You can see it just by looking at 'im."

Matthew looked closer, and he could just make out the noticeable comparisons. Where Francis had eyes as scarlet as a rose after a refreshing rain, Alfred's eyes were similar to…well, as if someone had taken the color red and drained it until it could be mistaken for a dark, dark, pink. There was nothing that could be compared to them. No color, no shade, no flower, nothing. It was almost as if they were white outlined with red from far away. Up close, however, you could most likely make out the tint they had to them.

Arthur Kirkland, on the other hand, as the shell used the water to push the suds away from his body and down his front, could have been mistaken for a doll that had been manhandled several times. Bruises laced decorations on his body, neck harmed and body seeming too weak and lazy to move. The Canadian couldn't help but stare and wonder what had happened to him. He knew the Brit was a fighter when he wanted to be, but how did he allow himself to get so mangled and feeble? Even Feliciano and Lovino looked healthier, and they refused to fight anything, no matter what it was, including their rounds in the trials. They, like (apparently) Arthur, Yao, and Matthew, were still "too angelic" to be considered "worthy" enough. Those who were the opposite hadn't been seen in quite a few days. For instance, Elizabeta Héderváry had just gone off about two days ago, and so far hasn't come back, as had a few others that he hadn't known, but had been taken. It was surprising, to say the least. Where did they go, and why?

"_Hey, Beautiful, did you know that demons have specks of vampire blood in them?_" Alfred stated, some of his conversation with the Englishman now being invaded on.

Arthur hummed as a response, a habit of his that showed he was either disturbed or was musing on an appropriate answer. It seemed like both was happening. "I_s that so?_" He replied in a steady voice, head turned back slightly as his wings bristled at the touch the demon gave them.

"_Mhm~!_" His tone of voice suggested he was quite proud of what he was stating. "_It's why our fangs are so sharp. Did you know that?_"

A smile graced the Englishman's lips ever so slightly, barely even up. "_No, of course not._"

"_Wow, you angels really don't know much about us, do you, Dainty Angel?_"

His cheeks flamed brightly, and Matthew couldn't help but stifle a laugh. Arthur was always so flattered by comments that he was given. "_N-no, of course not. I'm not very surprised though; most angels never study demons._"

"_Seriously?_" A look of surprise crossed his face. "_Wow. Demons know a lot about angels. That's so weird~, ahahahaha~!_" He ran some more water down his back once again, careful as to not harm the sensitive wings. Arthur was silent, most likely thinking what was just shared. Matthew sniffed a bit, and glanced over at Francis, who had started to stand before he floated up on one of the tallest boulders and perch himself there, both legs and arms crossed.

"Well, well, it seems like Alfred finally found an _amant_~," he teased as the Canadian sat himself down beside him gently. The two in the water looked up, Arthur's large eyebrows furrowing in confusion at who was there, not recognizing the demon, but Alfred laughed noisily as soon as he recognized both voice and face.

"And Francis found a new toy to sex up," he said back, looking at Matthew tauntingly. The latter furrowed his eyebrows in anger. The Frenchman, luckily, scoffed in offense.

"_Mathieu_ is not a toy, 'e's perfect!" He glanced back so that he could cup the Canadian's face with gentleness, pecking along it. He laughed as his demonic lover pulled away, snuggling nose into cheek. "Plus, 'e 'as blood of ze French, so it is obvious _'ow_ 'e is so gorgeous." Francis snickered, smirking as he glimpsed at the other duo. "Unlike zat English _pig_ you were obsessing over wen you first found 'im."

"Hey, Beautiful is not a pig!" When Francis had said Alfred is easy to rile up, he wasn't kidding. There were times, apparently, when he would get so mad, he'd defend his cause no matter what. For instance, upon hearing the insult of his somewhat slave, he had enough cluelessness to stand up and let his naked, sculptured body glimmer in the dim light of the burgundy sky, everything shown and nothing covered. Matthew looked away in embarrassment, and Arthur gasped in amazement before his cheeks flamed in deep color and he averted his eyes. "He's amazing and gorgeous and mine, so even if you did touch him he still belongs to me." The Englishman stuttered in shock, face burning even more than before.

Francis sighed. "Ah, _oui_, I did. Too unexciting, zough. 'e didn't even moan. _Mathieu_, 'owever…." The Canadian blushed deeply, remembering what the two had done exactly during their time in the dark. He didn't want to ever forget that, mainly for one reason….

B-but no one else needed to know _that_, of course.

"That's so gross!" The American scrunched his face up in disgust.

"You would 'ave done za same zing to your _petit Anglais_," the clothed demon retorted back as he stood up and landed near the edge of the lake.

Alfred huffed and crossed his arms. "Why are you even here?"

A simper crossed the Son of the Dark's lips, deep red eyes glistening in a teasing matter. "Wanting to get back down business? Can't we talk like good _amis_?"

"You're wasting my time with my Gorgeous Englishman, so hurry up."

Francis scoffed with a roll of his eyes, but nonetheless started for the American's cave-made-home. "Fine, fine, Alfred. You younger demons are so demanding." He glanced back at Matthew as he continued walking, the demon with the lighter iris color tugging on the clothes that covered below his waist. "We won't be long, _Mathieu_. But be careful; I don't want you catching anyzing _anglais_. Besides," he gave a wink to the Canadian, "I already unpurified you enough."

The angel chuckled quietly as the two left, and glanced over at the Englishman still sitting in the water with a dazed look still plastered on the unclothed Guardian's face. "Hello," Matthew greeted kindly, plopping down beside his friend gently. Arthur glanced up at him, but otherwise made no movement to get out of the water, shoulders slumped and eyes downcast once again, hands pooled in front of his private region protectively. Sensing he wasn't going to answer, the caramel blond decided to try a different approach. "So, how are you coping down here?"

"I suggest you stop being so formal and tell me why we're here," he demanded in a soft voice, emerald eyes gazing at the clothed male. To Arthur, Matthew probably looked like a saint right now. He didn't blame him; if he were as lost and as physically wounded as the Brit, he would have done the same. He gave a firm nod, but his voice trembled slightly nonetheless.

"A-alright then. What do you want to know?"

He shuffled closer to him, checking to see if anyone was around to hear him. "Why have the demons taken us from Heaven? Wot's our purpose here?"

The Canadian sheepishly raised his shoulders as if he were drawing back from a fight. He remembered asking that question just a few days ago; pretty long stoy. "U-uhm, well…s-see…." How did Francis say it again? He could recall the information being rather valuable and useful to answer the question.

_Ah~, wy, _cher_? Zat is too obvious: to ravish your petite body onto mine and make you __**beg**__ for me._

…

Th-that didn't quite help. Strange how he could remember something as perverted as that being uttered, but could barely pull even a word from the night they had answered each other's questions? Seemed ironic, almost.

Matthew gave a small smile in remembrance, but it vanished from his face quickly. "Years ago, apparently there was a little dispute between God and…y-you know…Satan…," he uttered the name as if he had a gun pressed against his forehead, "that ended up into a big war. So, to prepare for it, they decided to make loyal followers for their sides out of the closest materials they could find: clouds and feathers for angels, and rocks and leather for demons. At the time, their only purpose was to defend their home and fight the other side, but eventually, the angels started to develop into kinder, less war-crazy beings. While the demons got stronger physically, angels became stronger mentally, their brains and intelligence matching the Sons of the Dark's brawns and powers. But…something happened that sort of changed a few things."

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows, asking with his eyes for him to continue. The Canadian gulped and blushed, looking away for a bit.

"Well…a lot of angels started to disappear around the same time this was happening, and the demons were growing stronger. Eventually, our side was so low on numbers that we suspected the Sons had something to do with it."

"And? Were they responsible?" Matthew frowned, and looked down. The shaggy blonde's face showed understanding, and he bowed his head. "O-oh…."

"Yeah…and, basically, history's been repeating itself for nearly a century."

"A century?" His eyebrows raised in shock. "How did no one know about this?"

"No one's told. It's been kept a secret for years. I just found out recently." It was true; Francis had given him an amazingly long explanation about the war, saying that no demons held secrets from their "boss", and vice versa.

"So…is that wot's going to happen to us?" Arthur's eyes had widened in fright, staring at Matthew and likely wishing for some sort of understanding between them. Luckily, the Canadian understood perfectly and gave a nearly inaudible whimper.

"I-I don't know, I don't hope so. A-and at the same time…," he glanced over at Alfred's small home, "I-I-I would love to become one, only because it means I'd stay with Francis." For the past few days, he'd find himself thinking over what would happen if he ever got back home. Would he be able to live? Would he be different? What would happen to them? What if it turned out Francis was just playing a game with him?

_Stop thinking about it! You know he loves you like you love him! Why are you worrying so much over it? Francis would never leave you; he honors the ground you walk on as if __**he**__ were the one being a slave. He's treated you like royalty, made sure you weren't hurting, commented you in the most beautiful of ways. What more is there to ask of, and where does the worry have room to stay? You're just making yourself anxious; Francis won't leave you. He'll cradle you and hold you close and never leave._

Upon the mention of staying here, probably just because he was in love, the Brit glared at him in astonishment. "Y-you want to stay?" He managed to stammer out, a look of horror on his face. The barely injured one gulped silently, and nodded. He was expecting this storm to come out soon.

"I-I fell in love with a demon," Matthew admitted, feeling a flutter spin inside his stomach and a warmness fill his heart, mouth rising in a smile. "And he loves me, I can tell."

The look on the green-eyed angel's face showed he was mortified at the words pouring from his companion's lips. "You can't love him, Matthew."

"W…what?" Eyebrows furrowed, he couldn't help but glance up in surprise at the words.

Arthur nibbled on his lip, looking around nervously. "Matthew, you can't fall in love with a demon. It's against the rules. Don't you remember?"

"Yes and I don't care." Usually, he was soft spoken, quiet and kind to others; but this time was an exception. This time, a sensitive spot had been struck. "Look, I know how you like to play by the rules, but I can't control my heart because of something someone else said. I'm in love, Arthur, whether you're able to see that or not. And I'm happy with how things turned out, because I discovered, that when you're in love everything is wrong unless you're with that special person that you dream of eternities with." The Brit started to speak. "No, Arthur, and I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings…but I fell in love with someone when we arrived here, and even though you had a tough time with Alfred, that doesn't mean everyone else did."

"Matthew hear me out-"

"Arthur, please." He gave his friend a light smile. "It's just a waste."

"_Bonjour_ once again, you two beautiful creatures~! We are finally done wiz our meeting, _ange._ Are you ready to leave?"

A pair of arms wrapped neatly around the Canadian, before a mouth made contact to his neck and lightly began to peck it and drag gentle kisses on its surface. Matthew, forgetting their discussion, giggled joyfully at the action, at every curve the hand had made or touched. If he could, he would stay there in that ever-so-comforting hold, the strong protection and the gentle brush of lips. There was no doubt in his mind he was heel-over-wings for Francis Bonnefoy. "I'm ready to leave," he nodded, and smiled once last time at Arthur. He was just confused at them; he had never had experience with love; he didn't know much about it. And by the looks of it, as the duo finally left, as Matthew glanced back to see Arthur sheepishly glance away with the brightest of blushes, it seemed as if the Englishman was in some denial of his own. _Poor Arthur. His heart must be aching in confusion._

"Somezing wrong, _cher_? You seem a bit too silent." He nuzzled his lover's neck with a sigh, reveling in the friction it caused as they walked on to the neck house. Matthew gave a gentle smile.

"I'm fine, Francis; just a bit guilty." The French demon raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "Arthur's in denial of his love for Alfred."

The Son of the Dark exhaled, twirling a lock of the angel's hair around his finger. "I noticed; Alfred chatted lively about him, but he said Arzur 'asn't come to terms wiz it just yet."

"He's not being very accepting of it, either. Ever since I met him, he's been a rule follower. He wants to be perfect."

"Zat's boring." A peck slid against his chin, leading to his cheeks. "I'm glad I was made a Frenchman." _Peck._ "Ozerwise;" Peck; "I would not know how to love you."

"Yes you would." This time, it was his turn to give a kiss. "I love you no matter who you are."

Anyone passing by would have to igore the smell, or blush in embarrassment at the sultry moans issued.


	7. Thoughts

**8,088 hits? I love you all, readers and reviewers and alert and favorite people! You're what make me writing this story ONLY. I have another story I want to finish, but I've only written little bits of that one up so far. THIS one, however, has my full attention.**

**Anyways, I'm just so excited, because this story has the most hits, favorites AND alerts of any of my stories so far. I mean, I never thought I would like, come up to this, and I'm just really happy it did, because it brings me joy and confidence and I'm rambling and should just let you read the story already XD**

**Also, Hetaliaawesomeones, the anonymous reviewer. Can I just say you are awesome? :D Because you love all five of my top five couples (well...top five of six...gotta squeeze in my DenNor XD ooh, sexy Denmark~), and I bow down to you because well...like Prussia, you are awesome/prusome, because h****onestly, I don't find many lovers of USUK, Franada, GerIta, Spamano AND NiChu. I find the first four but they pair China with Russia and Japan with Greece. And Franada is REALLY uncommon, yet growing popular (yesh~! FACE family~~~). And I have a sort of hostility against Russia, so I'm just like meh whenever he's around China (although I do find him amusing even though he's a creeper), and as for Greece and Japan, I like them as close friends and a past relationship. Yeah...I do that a lot; like, I see Ameripan, AsaKiku, FrUK which I wish would DIE and go die in a ditch, PruCan (nothing serious, but they're cute :3), Frain, EnglandXChina, the Bad Touch Trio threesome that you _KNOW_ happened, um...and others, I all see as past because I accept them besides that flipping FrUK which I want to burn with every flame in existence. Plus, I just love the Badass Trio/BTT. And so, Imma go rant somewhere else now XD :shot: I should start. Who reads this, anyways?**

**I own nothing but the plot and idea. Otherwise, you can enjoy the greatness of USUK flufffffffff. Enjoy~! ^-^**

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><p>Chapter 7:<p>

Thoughts

After Francis and Matthew leaving and Alfred returning from his small home, still shirtless, Arthur couldn't help but ogle the smooth, sculpted front that made his cheeks flare. The demon barely noticed, and didn't seem to know what exactly was wrong with his "Delicate Rose". Either he was completely oblivious, or didn't really care that he was now holding his ass-naked prisoner in the air so that everyone and _anyone_ could see him. The angel, meanwhile, was surprised to be handled so roughly and kicked his legs in protest and alarm (and grabbed at the pectorals of the Son of the Dark, causing even more of a blush). Nonetheless, despite his refusals, he found himself being lifted in the air, flying in the strong arms up to a small house that overlooked the water. A cry of fear echoed around the area and tugged at his stomach, bringing the terror that he could be dropped at any minute into him and causing his worry to grow. He wasn't afraid of heights or flying, but when he had no control over it, he started to get a little panicky.

Alfred didn't even notice.

The demon landed on the edge of the cliff, wings straightening up almost as quickly as he had landed, before he strolled down a small dirt road that led to the adobe-styled house. Arthur was trying to gain control over his breathing again, and his body writhed to let his feet touch the ground. Alfred didn't place him down until he was inside the house, where the Brit struggled to keep his balance. The demon stroked his hair out of his face with a grin, and the Englishman finally found the ability to form words.

"Y-you didn't have to do that," he whispered. Alfred shrugged.

"I wanted to do something nice for you, Beautiful," he stated with a faint smile, and pressed a closed mouth kiss on his forehead. Almost instantly, Arthur pulled away in shock and stared, face a similar shade to a tomato. The Son of the Dark laughed. "I'll be right back, Angel. Okay?"

"Why did you kiss me?" His eyes were wide and wild, looking as if he had just been high on something. The dark-haired male, however, giggled like a mischievous child and exited the house, leaving the Englishman to his confusion.

_Whot in the world did he think he was doing? A-am I some sort of toy to him or something? I'm not just…s-someone who wants a kiss from some random bloke who happens to be in the same room. Even though…that kiss was just nice…his lips are smooth, and he feels out of practice, like he hasn't kissed many before….S-stop it! You didn't like that. Remember: Angel and Demon. We don't go together, we can't go together, we won't go together…n-no matter how good that kiss felt. No matter how much I need that kind of…l-love…I don't love him. I-I-I just wanted a kiss._

Arthur let a sigh loose from his lips, feeling as if he had solved the situation with his denial, and examined the space around him. Not too big, but not too small kitchenette. What was most likely supposed to be a living room was no more than what doubled as a bedroom: a plain, large bed with delicate covers and a small brown table beside it. A dark brown wooded rocking chair sat in the corner, a red, plaid blanket in the middle of it, nicely folded. There were candle holders that were occupied upon the wall, most likely used to provide light at night. The place was, in its own, strange way, quaint and smelled of Alfred, despite that horrible stench he found himself somehow growing used to. That was a bad sign.

_I must be getting used to this place. Maybe I should escape back to the Surface at night._

"Oh, Gorgeous~!"

The Englishman gasped and rotated around in shock at how close the voice was to his ear. "A-Alfred," he breathed out as he controlled his nerves and rapidly beating heart. "Be careful when you sneak behind others' backs."

Alfred laughed as if he hadn't done anything wrong. "Did my Angel get frightened?" He wondered, handing the shorter male's white garment as if it was precious glass. Arthur wished his cheeks stopped blazing in embarrassment as he took his clothing back, and, with wings pressed against his back, slipped the fabric over his head to stop his nude show. The one-strap, short robe fit him perfectly and brushed just halfway up his thigh. He took the gold sash and tied it around his waist lightly, and slid his feet into his sandals on the ground, looping the ribbon around his lower legs, up to his knees, and tied it off on the side of his calf. When he stood up properly, he noticed the demon staring at him, as if he was a god. Arthur's blush returned, and he raised his shoulders up sheepishly.

"Um, c-can I help you?"

The red-eyed male blinked, head tilted to the side and a dopey grin plastered on the lower half of his face. "You're just so beautiful," he commented. The Brit inhaled sharply and quietly, stammering over his words.

"Th-thank you, um…y-your eyes are…w-well, they're…"

"You've mentioned my eyes before." Now, he leaned forward, eyes showing a natural innocence that Arthur couldn't express with words how much his heart thumped at that look. "What do you think about them?"

"U-uh…" The only word he could manage, eyes blinking as he tried to regain some composure.

"Because I can say all kinds of things about yours." Alfred stopped leaning and now stood only an inch away from the Guardian angel as he spoke in a low voice. Again, the latter found his breath caught and his heart beating a mile a minute. "They're emerald jewels that sparkle just right. They shame a flower's beauty and are worthy to be in a rainbow. No…," he ran a hand under his chin, and gave a small smile, "they deserve a place among the stars. Or even beyond, because those jaded eyes' beauty matches nothing but its owner." His other hand dropped beside the blonde's waist, pulling the body close to him, and Arthur gasped in shock at the friction. "Smooth, flawless skin like fine china, figure gently curved, wings delicate and as white as snow, halo a gold ring of innocence, nose and mouth and face sculpted on with utter and complete care, hair a golden field of mimosa flowers***** that had been kissed by the sun; everything I see…," he leaned to the ear, "flawless."

Arthur blinked in shock the words of adoration, ignoring the fact that the palms of his hands rested on the pectorals, forgetting the obvious that they were pressed against each other, disregarding the detail that the lips were so close to his. Oh, what it felt like to kiss those lips…

_Arthur, stop!_ He scolded himself. _No more fantasies; you agreed to forget about them! He's just complimenting you out of courtesy. Even if he does love you, it will never work. It will never work, it will never work, it will never work, it will never work—_

"So!"

The American separated them from each other and bounded into the kitchen. The Englishman stood in his place, arms hugging his waist. He pushed away the fact that he had actually _liked_ the feeling of his arms around him, and instead cleared his throat sheepishly.

"Hey, Angel! Whatcha want for dinner~?" The demon asked, swaying into the room on his heels. "I can make some really good burgers if you want~! Or do you not like meat? Are angels vegetarians? What do want to eat, Thornless Rose?"

Arthur gasped at the sudden, new nickname. Thornless Rose? That meaning…there was a romantic connotation behind it. What did that mean? It was obviously something good, but _what?_ He blushed and bowed his head. For now, he'd just let a meal distract him from the comment and think about how he was going to survive the denial and overwhelming, unrequited love he was receiving from the other.

* * *

><p>In the light of the darkening sky, the duo sat on the edge of the cliff that Alfred's little home sat upon, both of them eating in a silence only interrupted by the loud chomps and chews of the Son of the Dark. Arthur sat with the wooden plate of (rather delicious) fish and chips he was having in his lap, gazing at the edge of the small pond and ravine that led to it. The glow from what would be sunset on the Surface gleamed and intrigued him of its calm pattern.<p>

_Alfred's too kind to me as a master. He gives me little nicknames that make my heart race and my face to blush. And my heart says I'm falling in love with him, despite it being forbidden. But my head tells me I'm just confused and needy because I've never fallen in love with someone. It makes me sound needy. Both say that we cannot love each other, but one says who cares and the other says I should care. But who do I listen to? I can't ask anyone else; who is there to ask? I can't mention this to Alfred._

"You like your food~?" He wondered hopefully. Arthur nodded as he nibbled on another chip. "Thanks~! Fries are pretty good, huh?"

"I'm surprised you had any food like this here. Would think you had mostly meat," he added the last part to save himself.

"Yeah, we got a good majority of meat. It's a lot, 'cuz demons hardly eat vegetables. But whwn we do, they're _really_ good."

"Hm…and this is all homemade, yeah?"

"Mhm~!" He nodded, and dusted his fingers off of any grease. "Francis taught me how to cook. Really wonderful chef, I'm not gonna lie. Makes really good cakes, too!"

"I see…you must be close with Francis?"

He gulped the food that was in his mouth. "Nah, not really. We know each other well and all, but he hangs out with his two friends too much. They creep me out. But Francis and I are just fight buddies; whenever we have to go out to fight, we're always paired together. Except for this one time in Paris; he said he had to go solo because he was looking for someone." Chew, chew, swallow. "Whi'h remi's me. T'ere's gonna be a charge on the Surface tomorrow."

The angel looked over at him quietly. "Why's that?" He didn't know why he was asking; he figured it was because he was worried or something of the like. Worried about a psychotic, childish demon; that was new.

He shrugged, and stuffed his face with a new burger and a smile. "Bea' me;" bite, chew; "ih ju' bui'ne'."

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows with a blink. "I'm sorry, whot was that?"

The demon swallowed what was in his mouth as he raised a new piece of food to bite on. "It's just business. Ya know, just work matters." He sunk his teeth into the food as the blond bowed his head. "Go'a 'e uway fo' ah 'ew 'ay'."

He crinkled his nose slightly. "I can't understand you."

Alfred laughed and swallowed. "Gonna be away for a few days." Bite.

"Oh…it must be important, then, if it takes that long."

He gulped the chewed bits and shook his head, wiping the side of his mouth with his thumb. "Not really, it's just a pain to travel to the exit to the Surface, and then it'll take about two hours to get to the location _up_ there, and then it'll take a longer amount of time to get back down here and then here again." He pointed at the blond. "Ta 'u!"

"So, all in all, it'll be a long trip."

He confirmed the statement with the same motion again, eyes dim with sadness and face taking the appearance of a kicked puppy. "I'd rather stay here with you, though." The Englishman's heart twisted in pity for him. Alfred did a good job of making someone feel bad for him, he was sure of that at least.

"O-oh…"

"Do you want me to stay?" He wondered, looking over at the shorter in hope. Arthur opened his mouth, but then shut it.

_He wouldn't like to hear me say that._ "You should do whot you think is right, Alfred. I wouldn't want for you to get in trouble for one of my decisions."

"So you _do_ want me to stay!" Alfred jumped off and floated off the cliff, all while keeping eye contact with the blond. "I knew it!"

"N-no, I wasn't saying that, I meant-"

Alfred laughed and circled around the cliff edge wildly, his back to the ground and his laugh loud and exuberant. "My Beautiful Thornless Rose, when I get back, I will make sure you feel so special~! _HAHAHAHAHA~!_" And with a single wave and an exclaim of joy, he zipped over the Englishman and over the mountaintop.

_That one is mad,_ he shook his head as he raised a chip to his mouth, but then smiled small with a light blush. _He is thoughtful, though. And flattering._ His cheeks flared, and he frowned, popped the lone fry into his mouth before standing up and walking back to the house. _I've got to stop this. I can't love him. He's a demon. And I'm an angel. Angel and Demon. We don't fit. And yet we go together like…like…I don't even know._ He looked back one last time, only to see Alfred floating above him with a wide grin a mischievous look in his eye.

"Are you coming, Gorgeous~? I wanna hang out some more, Lovely~! _Ahahaha~!_" And just as quickly as he had spoken, he zoomed in the house, leaving the Brit shaking his head and following him in the house.

* * *

><p>That night, after locking the door and relaxing in the comfy bed, with Alfred curled up , Arthur dreamed a strange dream once again.<p>

He was lying down in a field of flowers, gazing at a blue skies dotted with white puffs of clouds. His feathered wings were stretched out on either side of him, and a breeze blew his hair back gently. His arms rested against the back of his head and he smiled softly, closing his eyes. He felt at peace and serene, as if he could lay there forever in tranquility, and not be bothered by a soul.

Footsteps, light like a deer's, were detected traveling in his direction and he sat up, confused, until his grin widened somehow. Once again, Dream Arthur seemed to understand everything and Reality Arthur was left confused.

A boy, no older than twenty, strode over to him, standing over him in silence for a few seconds before finally sitting down beside him and smiling. This time, Arthur let his heart leap at the sight of him, rule to love a male or not. This boy was _handsome._ Not that Alfred wasn't, no, and even though yes, he technically commented to himself that even though Alfred was a male and a demon and handsome, that meant that he couldn't love him. But _this_ one…he was a male and handsome, so it didn't really matter all that much to him.

The first noticeable feature on him was his eyes. Oh, they were gorgeous; the irises were a perfect blue that shamed the sky, and as clear as glass. They were set behind square-framed, thin wire glasses that were perched atop a perfect nose, atop curved, slightly plump lips. His skin was a tan that showed how he must work hard during the day under the rays of the sun. His hair was a beautiful color of wheat, the shade of caramel, with a cowlick defying gravity just to the right of his hairline. The boy's attire was strange, in its own way, yet unique: a leather bomber jacket adorned with black fluff at the collar and an airplane on the left sleeve; underneath, a brown Air Force uniform and a green tie just beneath that. His legs were long, and his body seemed to be defying the muscles that were covered by the clothing.

"Hello, luv," he greeted warmly, and reached his hand out. Reality Arthur gulped; _oh great, here we go again._ The male took it with a black-gloved hand, and squeezed it comfortingly. He looked as if he wanted to speak, but he held his tongue, for the light evidence of tears in his eyes made it obvious he was distraught about something. _Wonder why he looks as if he's going to start bawling._ "Wot's wrong, poppet? You should be happy. I managed to escape today." _Escape? Escape from whot? Am I in some sort of prison?_

"I need to show you something," he croaked out, and the tears became more noticeable now. Instantly, the angel (in both reality and dream) was stricken with worry.

"Alfred, whot's wrong?" The dream version wondered. The reality one could only scream, _ALFRED?_ "Tell me, luv, you're making me worried. Are you hurt?"

"No, not really." He sniffed, and it seemed to take a big effort to hold the water back.

"Did someone say something to you?" _THIS CAN'T BE REAL! THIS CAN'T BE ALFRED! IT'S GOT TO BE SOMEONE ELSE!_

"N-no, it's not that Arthur…" He bowed his head even more, and sniffled. "I-I just got to thinking again."

"About whot?" _Maybe where we are now?_ Reality Arthur believed, and he could tell Dream Arthur thought he was thinking about the past. "Alfred, I was foolish back then. _(Foolish?)_ I didn't know whether to follow my head or my heart, but…in the end, I chose my heart and fell in your arms." He said the last line with a comforting smile. Arthur in Reality gasped. _Whot are you talking about? I do not! I can't! It's got to be another Alfred! We're Angel and Demon! We can't—_

"Arthur…" "Alfred" grabbed his hands and held them, tightening their grip before he brought each one to his lips and kissed the top. "I want to show you something."

"Whot is it?" Both of the versions of the angel couldn't deny that he was curious.

"W-well…remember our first night? And…afterwards, you let me let look into your memories?" Dream Arthur nodded, but Reality Arthur hummed in confusion.

_First night…? Whot's that mean?_

"Well…I want you to look at mine. In case we never get the chance to see each other again, I want you to look back into my past, I want you…to see what happened to me. I'd tell you, but…it hurts for me to speak about it."

"Alfred…" He rested his fingers and palm on his cheek, and Alfred nuzzled into the affection. "I don't want you to get hurt. You know in both ways, you're going to be harmed, and...I-I can't stay to see you like that. Especially now, after whot happened…"

"I know, Arthur…I know." He pressed a quick kiss against his forehead, and caused the Englishman to blush. "And I'm sorry…but you deserve to know."

Arthur gulped, and raised his hands hesitantly. "O-okay…please tell me when to stop."

"I-I will, I promise." He helped move the small hands to his temple, and then shut his eyes at the Brit entered into his mind.

_Afraid, brave, control, dodge, end, fear, give, hit, incoming, kill, lunge._

_Attack, bullet, cry, direct, endeavor, flow, grab, hit, inside, kill, lung._

_Attempt, bullet, control, direct, end, flow, grab, hit, inside, kill, lung._

_Attack, bullet, cry, direct, end, flow, grab, heart._

_Aim, bullet, cry, down, end, flames._

_Alone, bright, cowardly, dream._

_Peace._

_Awake, blink, curious._

_Bright._

_Upright._

_Heaven. Realization; relief._

_Examine._

_Stand._

_Angels. Approach, brought, creatures: delicate, envious, feathers, gate, heaven, innocent, joyful._

_Jealous._

_Envious._

_Anger._

_Fury._

_Realization_

_Abrupt, brought, checked, detail, examine, flaw._

_Talk. Among, beings, critical._

_Acknowledged._

_Presented._

_Offer. Hope._

_Denied._

_Ostracized. Taken._

_Banishment. Thrown, "useless", vulnerable._

_Land. Harsh, invariable._

_Found. Relief, trust._

_Misunderstanding._

_Bullies. Harmed, injured, jilted._

_Wings. Ripped, stained, tears._

_Halo. Cracked, destroyed, excruciating._

_Face. Slap, torn, unrecognizable._

_Body. Forgotten, gory, harmed._

_Alfred. Battle; bullet. Heart, injury, killed, lung._

_Alfred. Wounded. Brought, converted._

_Alfred. Angel._

_Offered. Seraphim; safety. Highest rank._

_Alfred. Denied. Refused, snorted, turned down._

_Alfred. Banished._

_Alfred. Harmed, injured._

_Alfred. Abandoned. Found. Rescued._

_Alfred. Converted, demon, enveloped, found._

_But._

_Longing; love; lonely._

_Needy._

_Lonely; longing; love. Wants._

_Love. Lonely. Need. Want. Desperate. Looking._

_Lonely; longing, looking; love._

Arthur woke up screaming and crying, and Alfred by his side in worry.

**_*Sidenote: mimosa flowers represent sensitivity and something exquisite or admiringly beautiful, so I found it kinda sweet when I found this out. Plus, mimosa flowers are yellow, so I made a bit of an awesome comparison there, huh? :D :bricked: There's also a meaning to a Thornless Rose, but I'm gonna be cruel and not say anything about that one X3_**


	8. Regret

**Oh, by the way, just to let you know, the last jumble of words in the last chapter: sorry if it was a bit confusing. I'm pretty sure I state...somewhere in THIS chapter that Arthur only saw tidbits, and I wanted to make that moment a bit dramatic and make you think. Soooo, it was just me being a difficult author :3**

**Anyways, _BONJOUR MON AMIS~~~! _Here again to bring my awesomeness to the table :D**

**I should not be happy, though, because I'm sure a lot of you will be highly upset with me by the time this is over. Just read and watch and...probably raise a wild riot against me. :places Chibitalia in front of me: Shieldia~! XD I'm sorry...**

**On the bright side, I introduce a minor couple in here. Is that good?**

**:bricked:**

**Fine then...**

**8,664 hits. 79 faves. 106 alerts. God, I love you all~! :D I own nothing here but the plot and whatnot. All characters go to Himaruya. If I owned Hetalia, why, I wouldn't be here daydreaming about two goddamn sexy nations named American and England doing it with the latter as a bloody good damn uke, both of them moaning and screaming and panting out sexy "I love you"s to each other and just making me fall in love with them all over again and I'm gonna stop now and just let you read. Enjoy~! XD**

* * *

><p>Chapter 8:<p>

Regret

After calming down a hysterical Arthur and failing on getting a perfect story out of him, Alfred decided to make him a little something to eat while he calmed down. And it wasn't easy: the Englishman was sniffling and trembling in the blanket that covered his shoulders, shoulders shaking from the excursion they were put through; his nose was runny and his eyes watery; his wings, halo and aura were drooping and dimming down their glow. He looked pathetic, and he knew it, no matter what Alfred said to him.

He refused to tell the demon what he had seen exactly. For one, despite similar features like his nose and mouth and that strange little cowlick that refused to listen to gravity, he barely looked like Dream Alfred. Two, the Alfred in his dream wasn't a demon, but human. He could tell by the dullness his soul reverberated (angels had powerful senses, and could tell the difference between humans and disguised demons or angels by the power of their souls) that he was most definitely human. And three, Dream Alfred seemed to be loving, and kind, and seemed crazy in love with him. This Alfred, Reality Alfred, although he seemed to love Arthur, was too aggressive when he got angry. This "new" one was kind. It couldn't be the same person. And yet there was something that kept them together.

Alfred only managed to guide the Englishman to the table and sit him down, before he turned his back for not even a few seconds, and the latter burst into hysterics once again, this time uncontrollable and repeating nonsense that was incomprehensible due to the sobbing. The demon had to sit with him and hold him close to his chest, rocking back and forth (and not even noticing the sported blush on the angel's face) before Arthur was calm and only whimpered every now and then like a hurt puppy.

"There we go," the Son of the Dark smiled before pressing a kiss to his forehead. "No more tears, alright? You're too beautiful for that." The blond weakly hummed, with his head rested against the strong shoulder doused in leather. The Brit glanced up at him thankfully, and sniffed.

"Th-thank you…," he whispered, and nudged himself closer to him. "I really think I needed that."

Alfred chuckled as he dragged a soft hand through the gold locks. "I know you did." He looked the shorter right in the eyes, all serious and nothing kidding around. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Arthur gulped inaudibly. It was completely obvious that the American was not going to be informed of the sight that was seen. It was too gruesome, for not only had he heard and seen it, but he had also experienced it: had cringed and cried when the flames touched his skin, had screamed loud when the fists made contact to the body, had shouted and screeched as the feathers were ripped off and his horns poked through. Luckily, though, Alfred had gotten him up just before the demon in his dream turned around to reveal his new identity. But that didn't stop or help his yells; in fact, it quickened them in both frequency and sound. "I-it was just a nightmare," he replied, bowing his head and looking to the side in his lie. Angels were hardly ever good liars. "J-just a silly old nightmare. Nothing to worry about, nothing at all."

"Oh?" He brushed back the angel's bangs to place yet another kiss on his forehead. The servant nodded, cheeks their common scarlet shade.

"Y-yes…I don't wish to talk about it right now, though. Please understand."

"Of course~! No problem~!" The Son grinned large. "You tell me when you want to, okay~?"

"Of course." A small, tentative smile crossed upwards on his lips. "I guarantee it." However, inside him, his heart stung at the lie of the words.

Finally, Arthur managed to eat a small bit of the food that had been prepared for him, nibbling on the cheese and even daring to take a bit out of an apple after he had been reassured that he wouldn't end up cursed. So, with gratitude clouding over the events of the morning, the angel felt rather good so far, and had even decided to see his "master" off at the edge of the cliff that Alfred lived by and would be leaving from for a day. The demon couldn't help but be excited for some reason, and had even thrown the body over his shoulder in his enthusiasm. Arthur, however, cried out in shock and tried to wiggle his way out of the strong hold over his waist with a blush.

"Alfred, please, put me down!" He begged, trying to hide his smile through his anxious exterior. The red-eyed male laughed exuberantly, and used his wings to twirl around once in the air before he landed and set the angel down.

"Ahaha~! Sorry, Gorgeous, I'm just so happy~!" He exclaimed, jumping off the cliff and flying in front of it for a few seconds before he landed and pulled the smaller into a hug. "I'm gonna miss you _so_-_ much,_ my Thornless Rose!"

"A-ah, yes, okay, Alfred, please, calm down," he laughed as Alfred nuzzled into his chest, causing yet another flush in pale cheeks. "Alfred, it's alright, you won't be gone for a month, at least."

"I'm still gonna be away from you." He gave a warm and comforting smile that made Arthur's heart beat faster. "But I trust that you'll be okay."

"You think I can fight an army of your kind?" He gave a smirk, raising an eyebrow in curiosity and amusement. Alfred blinked a couple times in puzzlement before breaking into his familiar laughter once again.

"_HAHAHAHAHA~!_ That's a good one, Beautiful! _HAHAHA~!_" He let the angel fall back to the ground on two feet, and ruffled the bushy hair under the halo, carefully avoiding the floating ring. "Ahh…my Lovely Angel, you can do anything as long as you know what you're doing."

The sentence caused a new blush to rise to his cheeks, but Arthur shyly looked away smiling. "You really think so, Alfred?"

"Oh course I do~! Demons never lie, you know. We always tell the truth to anyone who wants to know it. It's just our way of saying the truth that never makes _any_one happy."

This made the Brit curious, and he couldn't help but press the matter more. "Well, whot happens when you have to lie?"

The demon remained oblivious to the new spark that was in the emerald eyes. "We just remain quiet and not answer them~! It's the best way for us. Plus, it makes them a bit nervous and on the edge."

"Hm…interesting." His pointer finger of his right hand probing into his chin, left hand supporting his opposite elbow, he gave a thoughtful tilt of his head as he gazed up at the taller male, eyes portraying a sort of serious and wise nature to them. "So, if I was to ask you of any sort of topic, you would answer in the most truthful way that you could." Arthur was purposely forgetting everything that happened before; if Alfred said demons always told the truth, he was going to get the truth.

"Of course~! Anything for you, Lovely~."

_Blush._ "I see….So, I realized before how you never told me, and I just want to know….How did you…_die_ exactly?"

All happiness that had been on Alfred's face just moments disappeared in a blink. His smile drooped, his eyes lost an interested spark, his wings slowly fluttered downwards until they could go no more, his devil's tail that had previously flickered with excitement finally stopped and fluttered to rest behind the back of his legs. Instantly, Arthur realized how much of a mistake he had made, and bit his lip.

_Oh no, whot have I done? It's probably a touchy subject for him! Ugh; I can't believe I said something so stupid._

"Is that what your dream was?"

The angel raised his head to gaze into those different, pale red eyes. "Wh-whot?"

"You dreamed about that last night, that's why you were screaming."

"Alfred, listen-"

"And you said it was a silly old nightmare!" He roared, tears noticed in his eyes. Arthur's heart twisted in his chest, and he found himself choking on the knot in his throat. "I can't believe you would lie to me! I will tell you anything you want to hear, Angel! Do you hear me? An-y-thing! But right now, I don't care about you! I don't want to even breathe the same air as you! I want to be as far away from you as possible, you…Feathered Devil!" He started to step forwards, eyes a dark black now as he loomed over the shorter, who started to cower back in fear. "You Gold Snob, Big Virgin Babies, Whiny Perfectionists, White-Feathered Followers, Weak Loners, Feathered Devils, _Lying and Manipulative __**DEMONS!**__"_ The last holler sent a loud reverberation around the area, causing several loud yells and snarls from all directions. "You, Arthur Kirkland, are everything that demons think of angels. I thought you were different from all of them; but it turns out that you're just as _worse_! When I come back here, I don't want to see you standing here at all, and you better be out of my _sight!_" With a flap of his wings, Alfred turned and rushed off into the sky, scratching Arthur as he did so and causing him to stumble back as he flew off.

"Alfred, wait!" He started to jump off after him, barely in the air when a rough pair of feet knocked him off the cliff, scraping his wings in the process and pushing him off the ledge to leave him grappling the edge. "ALFRED!"

One of his wings was damaged, bent back slightly; something to fix, but not right now. He tried to move it at least a little bit, but found it too painful. His hands started to slip, and his legs strained to find a smooth surface to balance on, but he found nothing, and his palms, sweaty from the work of trying to keep his body up, finally gave in and slid over the edge.

"_**ALFRED!**_"

Wings flapped, legs struggled, arms flailed, heart stop, life flashed, and before he knew it, he was caught in thin arms, floating just above the water.

"Look, Berwald! I did it!"

Arthur gasped as he grasped his rescuer's shoulders. The muscles underneath were not as rough as he thought, and when he looked at the body holding him up, he was shocked to see an angel, skin smooth and like fine china and hair a light blond, wings surrounded by gold dust. His smile was wide and friendly, the complete opposite of the setting, and his eyes had a sparkle of trust in them. The Brit, while he tried to catch his breath, was brought down to ground level shakily, where he gained his balance with help from his rescuer.

"Lucky we got here just in time," he chirped, his height shorter than Arthur yet able to hold him up as he struggled to stand. "If we had gotten here any later, well- I don't think I want to know." His voice was dusted with a northern and rich accent, most likely part of one of the Nordic countries. "What were you doing on that ledge, anyway? You look like you've been flying long enough to have no trouble at all."

"I-I just fell off," Arthur panted, breath slowly starting to calm down. "My sort-of-friend, I had, well…see, he…." _He abandoned me because I had hurt him. How can I live with myself? How can I do something to him like that? He's been so nice to me, and all I've been is politely rude._ "We just had a disagreement, is all."

"You're not too hurt, are you?" He gasped, and raised a hand to ghost against the thin wound from his cheek to his neck. "Oh! That doesn't look good! Should I help you fix it?"

"A-ah, no thank you, I'll be-"

"Berwald, pass me a bowl of water, please?"

A light grunt as a response came from behind them, and the Englishman glanced in that direction, before a façade of fear appeared on his face. "O-oh! U-uh, hello." The demon was tall, probably one of the tallest being he's ever seen. His wings were large yet neatly folded against his back, and his eyes were a chilling, pale red, just like Alfred's, horns cast downwards and tail loosely twisted along one of his legs. His eyes was blank of any emotions, and it almost startled Arthur at his frightening look. However, there was something in his eyes, those placid, placid eyes, that made the Brit think. He didn't look too scary; in fact, he looked as if he was trying to hide his nervousness.

The tallest male came back with the bowl, handing it to the smaller male, who smiled and thanked him cheerfully. Again, the demon gave a grunt, before becoming silent once again. The rescuer took a cloth from a rip from his robe, and soaked it in water before pressing it on the thin cut. "I forgot to ask you," the angel began to Arthur, "what's your name?"

"Arthur," he replied, cringing only a little bit when the water touched a sensitive spot. "Guardian angel to the Royal Family of the United Kingdom."

"Oh~, that must be fun! My name is Tino, from Finland," he introduced himself. "I'm in the Virtues rank; I help control the seasons. It's actually great fun once in a while. You should try it when you're given a chance to be promoted! Oh, I almost forgot, this is Berwald." Tino gestured toward the tall one, who nodded in greeting. "Berwald is from Sweden, and although he doesn't talk much, he is a very good listener, though!"

"N'ce t' m't you," the Swedish male greeted in a deep voice and Arthur gave a weak smile in return.

The Finnish angel stepped back a bit, and smiled. "There we go~! All clean and better~! Well, at least as good as it _can_ be, which is still very good, all the same." At that moment, a loud roar echoed around the area, startling the two angels. Tino's mood dropped nearly instantly, and he gazed up at his friend. "You have to go now, don't you?"

"Mm. Th't's r'ght. I'll be b'ck s'n though." He tucked a strand of hair away from the smaller male's face as the shorter stood up so they could connect their lips perfectly and sweetly. Arthur's eyes widened.

_They….Them too?_ He thought as the two stepped away from each other in sadness, Berwald brushed another kiss on his lips, and stretched his large wings out to lift his body up and away from his lover. Tino sighed as he watched him disappear upwards until he could no longer see him, and then looked back at the Brit.

"He's so wonderful," he sighed, fumbling with a lock of his hair. "He may seem scary, but he's the complete opposite. He's just not very social." He chuckled, a light smile on his face. "It's funny in its own way, because I'm the exact opposite."

"You, u-uhm…," the Englishman struggled for words. "Y-you seem to love him a whole lot."

"I do." He smiled small as he gazed off into space, before reconnecting their eyes. "Do you have someone special, Arthur?"

The guardian angel sheepishly looked away. He didn't know if he could consider Alfred someone special to him. He had practically kicked him out of his home, even though he was bound to him. Did that not matter anymore? He shivered; he had remembered during his rant, he had actually said his real name, not an endearing nickname, and as soon as he had heard it, he wished the words never returned to his mouth. It sounded so foreign and strange on his lips. He almost wanted to purposely replace the words, just so he could get rid of them. Scratch that, he wished he could reverse the whole situation and never lie to him. Or not tell him at all. "No," he shook his head with an exhale. "I don't have anyone down here besides the ones I know."

"That's a shame. You look like someone who needs it."

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows in bewilderment. "Whot's that supposed to mean?"

"Well…;" he looked down at the ground, and bent down to pick up a stem. He twirled it around in between his fingers before gently taking the Brit's hand, and placing the stalk in his palm. The flower had a large center that held the petals, skinny and long and drooping slightly, in place. The petals were a rosy pink, and extended out before going down again, resembling thin bells. "I hope you find that someone that makes you happy."

Arthur couldn't remember what the flower was called, but he knew it symbolized sympathy.

* * *

><p>After cleaning himself up quickly, Tino would have bid goodbye to his new acquaintance if it weren't for the fact that he was stopped by the shaggy blond and dragged down to the floor with him. And about a half hour later, the Scandinavian understood the story between him and Alfred, to at least the events that had led up to this.<p>

"So…Alfred has feelings for you?" He alleged after a moment of thought and silence.

"I don't even know," Arthur groaned, head having been resting in his hands since he had finished the story. "I think he still does, I'm not sure. I bet he hates me now, though; that I'm positive about."

"You can't be sure of that. You said he left before you could explain yourself?"

He nodded. "I just don't know what to do, Tino. I can't go after him, I'm sure I'll get lost and die before I do. I've been forbidden to be around him. I don't know whot I should do!" As he seemed to bury his head into his palms more, a gentle hand rested on his shoulder reassuringly, and he glanced up at the owner, who was sporting a kind smile.

"I think you need a bit of a break to think things through before he comes back."

The Englishman sat up, looking into the violet eyes as if they were his last hope. "How do you know that will help?"

Tino smiled. "Because I've had experience." Arthur furrowed his eyebrows, and the Virtues angel laughed. "Me and Berwald, of course."

"You had…trouble?"

He nodded. "Mhm. When I first came here about six months ago, I was terrified of Berwald. He didn't smile and he didn't talk very much, so I was frightened badly. But, he didn't treat me harshly; he treated me like I was royalty. And he was so shy; he would make sure I was okay, and gave me some privacy and let me think to myself. He was so respectful of me the first time I had to get used to everything. And as soon as I had been here one whole month, I realized I was madly in love with him."

"But…love between an Angel and Demon i-"

"I don't care if it's forbidden, Arthur. Shouldn't we be allowed to love whomever we choose?" He stood up, and then helped the emerald-eyed angel to his feet as well. "I discovered something one day, Arthur. Love is like that American game, baseball. All kinds of throws are going to come at you, but only one throw is the one that helps success."

Arthur blinked in confusion, and then chuckled silently as a small smile surfaced. "That sounds very true."

The Finnish angel grinned. "I got it from a friend of mine. He's crazy, but whenever he gets depressed or upset, he manages to come up with these little clever sayings."

"He sounds nice."

"He's a Demon."

"O-oh!" Almost instantly, he blushed and sheepishly tumbled over his words. "A-ah, uhm, I-I didn't know, I'm so sorry-"

"Arthur." The Brit stopped when he was interrupted. "I think you're too faithful to the Heavens."

"Why wouldn't I? It's what I know, whot I live, whot I dream to return to one day."

Tino shook his head and chuckled. "Arthur…I like you. But I think you're a bit too naïve."

"I'm not naïve!" He exclaimed, but then bowed his head in guilty. "I'm not naïve, I'm just…hopeful."

"Too much hope can twist one's reality." Before the Englishman could answer, the Nordic male reached out for the hand that wasn't clutching the flower. "Come on, Arthur. I think there's someone you need to see."

* * *

><p>Tino helped Arthur fly up to the top of the mountain, taking no less than ten minutes to find the house hidden in the mountain. The Virtues angel had brought him here because he needed to be "taught a lesson", and even though he knew he didn't need it, maybe he could learn something new from the experience.<p>

The former knocked on the door lightly, and stepped back a bit. A few demons passing by growled snarled at the shaggy blond as they passed, but when they glanced at the Finnish male, they stopped and rushed away. Whoever Berwald was, he probably wasn't one to get angry, and had most likely already had been, perhaps over the Scandinavian.

The makeshift door opened, showing a yawning, male angel that rubbed his eyes tiredly, hair and wings ruffled, and halo slightly lopsided. He looked almost unrecognizable, but Arthur noticed a lone curl sticking out from the top of his head. "Matthew," he realized, nearly taking a step back in surprise. Tired eyes met the two, and the Canadian grinned.

"_Bonjour_," he greeted.

"_Moikka!_" Tino said back in his native tongue, and gestured toward the angel behind him. "Mind helping out Arthur here?"

Matthew furrowed his eyebrows. "Why does he need my help?"

"Alfred," the Englishman said in embarrassment. "He, well…." He could feel the tears poking at the edge of his eyes, but he swallowed them away from the outside. "I-it's sort of a long story."

The taller frowned in pity, and stepped away from the door. "Just come in and tell me, Arthur."


	9. Discoveries

**Um, did I ever tell you, readers, how much I love you all? Because you gave me 10, 311 hits. And I'm still on the ninth chapter! :DDDDD How amazing is that? I give you all cyber hugs for reading.**

**Anyways, I added random SuFin~~~! :D Who loves me? :cricket: Meh...so, anyways, ****you finally get to see why Alfred is so madly in love with Arthur now~! :even though he already is COUCH COUGH WHAT!: Ahem... ****This story got its first fanart! :D Yaaaay~! I found it on tumblr and had a heart attack over it because it wasn't anything I had posted XD Go to my tumblr page, which is going to be on my author's page soon :3, and just look at one of the newest posts. So yeah. I was really proud of that pic.**

**Okay, so~! Hey, what gives! A short A/N. Huh...I own nothing but the plot. If I did...I would not be here writing this, would I? :3 Yeah...so, as always:**

**Enjoy~!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 9:<p>

Discoveries

After Tino left and Arthur was invited inside, Matthew had only offered a cup of tea to the Brit before the shaggy blond embraced the Canadian tightly and let the emotions from this morning take over him for a few minutes. Luckily, he knew Matthew well enough so that he didn't mind nearly being tackled by his friend. They were also comfortable enough with one another to let him see he was crying.

However, this time, it was different. The Englishman refused to let his face be seen from the other. He felt relaxed to let the other see him like this, yes, but it was the _reason_ that he refused to let him see. Matthew was in love, so deep inside the pit that unlike Arthur, he didn't mind if they were different species. Arthur was confused, and didn't know what to follow: his head, or his heart. Both were convincing, and both proved good points, but one was rational, and the other was bold. He was too confused and maybe Tino was right that he was naïve, but he could care less right now. No one understood what was going on in his mind except for him.

"Do you want a cup of tea to help calm you down?" Matthew asked after Arthur quieted down, but was still hiding his face with the former rubbing his back slowly and soothingly.

"That would help loads," he sniffed, stepping away so that the shorter could start preparing the drink in the tiny kitchen. He hadn't had a cup of tea in a _long_ time, ever since he had spent a day with Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth the First, just a few months ago. He could recall his mother stated that a Kirkland had Earl's Grey tea instead of blood fueling inside them. His mother was beautiful, he remembered, and he sat down in one of the wooden chairs in the kitchenette as he drifted through his memories back when he was a human. He remembered the smell of her cooking, the freshly baked scones and biscuits, whenever he would come home from school as a little boy, even as a teen; her knitting for her older, immature sons that found it boring, and eventually teaching Arthur, her youngest, how to embroider and such; she telling him after his first kiss from a girl that it was okay to not have liked it (even though he didn't like the fact that he enjoyed his first kiss from a _boy_); her comforting voice gently in his ear whenever he was sad and she sang him a comforting lullaby that she said would always be his, no matter what happened to him. He missed her a lot, especially; at least he had the opportunity to visit her after her death. She still looked the same, too: emerald eyes, long blond hair that she had grown out over the years, a kind smile that was ever so warm and filled with love. Arthur could definitely say she was the only woman he loved.

As for male….

A cup atop a saucer was placed in front of him gently, shaking him from his daydream, and causing a smile to rise on his lips. "Thank you." Matthew returned the gesture kindly, and sat down across from him, looking out the window at the departing demons. Arthur glanced over as well, and shivered at the far from normal, more like beastly sounds before hugging his tea cup in his hands and looking away. He wished he could get away somehow, at least to the Surface. He wanted a rescue team to at least _try_ to come down and help the trapped angels. He's sure others in their region escaped, like Feliks Łukasiewicz from Poland and Grecian Heracles Karpusi. He can vaguely recall seeing them escaping (he wondered how Toris took Feliks betraying him; the two had been as close as he and Yao were). "Matthew."

The Canadian glanced over at him.

"I…I'll tell you what happened when I finish this, alright?"

He gave a kind grin, "Of course. Tell me when you're ready."

The two sat in the silence for no more than five minutes, before the Englishman cleared his throat, tracing a hand around the rim of the cup. "Well…I had decided to bid Alfred farewell, since he would be leaving what would be today. And…everything was going so well, but…last night, I had a dream. And, I had one like this a while back, where…I was there, with Alfred, but…I was in love with him, somehow." His cheeks turned a cherry color, and he bowed his head, bangs drooping over his eyes, to hide his blush. "But last night, I had one, where, there was someone that _looked_ like Alfred, but I knew it couldn' be him, even though my dream self had called him 'Alfred' and I…I had a vision of sorts in my dream, where…I looked into his mind and…saw bits of what I believed were his death. And when I questioned Alfred before he departed, he…w-well…he freaked out, and…a-and said that I should be gone by the time he comes back."

Matthew sat with his chin in his hands, other fingers tapping on the table as he contemplated this. His purple eyes stared at a particular spot on the table, and the Englishman nervously fumbled around in his seat. The Canadian raised his head to gaze at the shaggy blond, and there was a wondrous intelligence inside his eyes. "I don't think you can actually kick your servant out; we're practically bound to our masters. And by what I've heard from Francis, he has a really bad temper and gets angry quickly, but when he does, he returns to normal just as quickly. I'm sure he didn't mean any of what he said, and if he did, he's going to apologize when he sees you again."

"But whot if he was serious? I don't think I'd be able to live with myself if he hates me for a mistake as stupid as that that's all because of me."

He chuckled under his breath as he shook his head. "It seems like you care about him more than you let on."

Once again, his cheeks betrayed him brightly, and he sheepishly hugged his shoulders. "I-I don't, I see him as a caring, um…demon, a-and he's nice to me, a-and…I-I can't love him like you love Francis! It won't work with us."

The violet-eyed angel sighed out of his mouth. "Arthur…I think you need to see something."

* * *

><p>The two made their way through the small house to the back, where it connected with the mountain, and Matthew led them through a door, then a corridor shaped from an open-mouthed cave in the Mountain of the Three Fates. The way was dark besides the dim light from the torches that were mounted on the roughly carved walls. Laughter and a language not English filed in from the end of the path. Arthur heard the familiarity of the two voices, one cheerful and boisterous, and the other less than the former but still containing some sort of strange happiness. He focused on the voices a b it more, and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.<p>

"Who else is down here with us?" He wondered.

"Only Feliciano and Lovino," he replied, giving a quick glance backwards. The eyebrows changed his reaction to one of shock.

"They reunited?"

"Yeah, only yesterday; it was pretty sweet. Feli refused to let go of Lovino, and they both looked so happy." He glanced behind him to gaze into the green eyes. "Yao asked for you."

The corridor didn't seem so wide and open anymore, the floor not as steady as it was before. The Briton blinked rapidly to secure his vision, but only made it worse. "Wh-whot?"

"Yao asked for you, just yesterday after we left you and Alfred and Francis and I went to him and his master, Kiku. He wanted to know if you were okay, and I said you were. Which reminds me;" he halted and reached down to pull a piece of paper from being held against the rope belt around his waist. "He said to give this to you."

Arthur tugged the folded piece of paper from his hand (before muttering an apology) and opened it up quickly, to see the neat, slanted and connected handwriting.

_Arthur,_

_Nihao aru. I do not have enough time to tell you what has happened, but I have enough where I can inform you of what you need to know. I will write quickly, though, because it is a lot._

_First, I am afraid to inform you that I am no longer allowed outside of Hell aru. My wings have been in the same state since I came here, so I assume they cannot repair themselves, my body is always hurting, and my halo is cracked severely, completely out of work. I feel weak all the time, and my energy is always drained. There is no way I can make it out of here like this aru. Second, there is something you need to know about the demons. Their reasons for capturing angels like us are dark ones. They wish to spawn more demons by keeping angels here long enough so that they can convert them to their side aru. They get close to you, by what Kiku has told me, and they start to make you fall for them before they…well, before they decided to…remove your angel characteristics and replace them with those of a demon. It's horrid, and the process is painful, as told by Kiku. He is my new "master", and apparently, he has told me that I will fall just like the others. And three, this is a warning aru. Be careful with who you trust; I am sure you will be, but during my life on the Surface I saw many fall before me, all because they made the wrong mistake. Please, be careful, dear friend._

_I'm afraid I must leave here aru. I hear Kiku coming back with that French demon that tried to seduce you at the Royal Gate. I promise, I will keep in touch with you aru. I don't think our "masters" will like us seeing each other, but I will make sure this letter reaches you. Matthew can be our messenger, if he must; I do not want to lose contact of my closest friend._

_From, your dearest friend,_

_Yao_

_P.S. Look at the eyes of the demon. You will see something strange in their behaviors from others of different and similar iris color._

By the time Arthur had finished it, the letter was marked with new tear stains over the old ones and the ink was starting to smear. He blinked the water off his eyelids, and wiped the rest off with careful fingers. He took a deep breath, looking up at the Canadian with relief. "I can't believe…oh dear."

"I don't mind carrying your letters back and forth," he shrugged gently. "Francis and I are always out walking, so I can deliver it to him fairly quickly. He likes to, um…make paints from the water at the bottom of the falls, and I always saw Kiku and Yao talking."

"Y-you would do that?" He felt even more liquid sting his vision, and he had to bow his head. What did he do to deserve to meet such a kind soul as Matthew's?

"Of course I would. I saw what your relationship was with him. You two were so close to each other. Plus, you're not that far away from each other. He's literally at the bottom of the Mountain of the Three Fates."

Arthur hastily made sure his thanks and gratitude was shoved into a hug as gentle as he could with his injuries that stung at fast movements. "Thank you so much, Matthew."

The skinny arms returned the gesture with a quiet "You're welcome, Arthur".

About a minute later, after standing there in the other's embrace, they finally managed to complete the rest of their journey to the end of the passageway, and to the Englishman's delight, he found himself standing wide-eyed and awestruck at the sight that was before him.

Books of all sizes were stacked together around the octagonal-shaped room, a bookcase on each of the seven sides that faced the entrance. There was not a single vertical space open for another book on the shelves, every possible space filled up with something. There were even some books stacked horizontal-on-vertical. The smell was wonderful of fresh pages and musty air and the aroma only a library could have, one filled to the brim with words and intelligence. Arthur felt a bit of nostalgia wash over him, and he felt as if he was a human again, back before the blitz killed him, surrounded by books of all kind that made him stay inside for hours with Merlin curled in his lap, and Juliet and Othello acting as protectors at his sock-covered feet while he read. He drowned himself in books, and loved their feel, their smell, their sound, their offering of knowledge. And he loved them like a parent loved its child. There were few books in the Heavens, and for some reason he hadn't touch or felt a book in nearly seventy years.

Matthew noticed his faint smile (through still lightly damp cheeks, mind you) and couldn't help but grin at the sight of the amazed Brit. "I found it when I came here," he explained, looking at the books as well. "There seem to be tons of them. You can probably find at least a hundred authors in here."

"Why would someone keep a library in a mountain, though? Why not build a separate wing for it?" He inquired, looking down to see the platform they were on led down to the floor and comfy chairs. He would definitely be coming back here.

"Francis said that they're books about humans, written by humans, books about angels- even books about demons. But he said the information they hold is so valuable, they had to hide it. He says he's not a big fan of anything in books unless it's an art book, and he told me he'd rather hide a library full of books with important info than have them fall into the wrong hands."

"This is his?"

He nodded. "Mhm, Francis said there's too much information that could destroy the Surface, so he hides it in here."

The bright-green-eyed male chuckled quietly under his breath. "Strange thing to say, considering his species."

Matthew frowned. "Not all demons are faithful to their Boss. They want to break away from him and do what pleases them. Francis only beca—" He bit his tongue. "Francis only follows him because he's still bound to him."

"Arthur!"

Arthur had opened his mouth to comment, but was cut off when he was suddenly tackled around the waist. The blond flapped his wings once to keep himself balanced, wincing at their soreness, before he tried to gaze at the (clearly recognized as) angel that had tackled him.

"Arthur! I can't believe it, you're actually here~! Lovino said you weren't going to but I _knew_ you'd come to see us because you were always so nice and friendly to me, so I knew for _sure_ you wouldn't betray me, right~! Plus you always let me make pasta for you and you always en_joyed_ it~!"

Of course. Feliciano. Even in his currently mushy mood, he couldn't stay mad at the lad, and even managed to keep a steady smile on his face. "Hello, Feli. It feels like I haven't seen you in ages."

"I haven't seen you in ages either! Well, maybe that one time when we were in that arena place, but I didn't get to talk to you for very long~!"

"Feliciano!" Lovino's harsh snap echoed around the room, causing the other Italian and the one he was hugging to look down at his brother, standing in front of his chair that had a table covered with open and closed books. "Get back down here! I'm not going to work by myself!"

"Sorry, Big Brother." He unraveled himself from the embrace and jumped into the air, floating down besides his brother and landing a bit clumsily. "I'm back~! Did you miss me, Lovi~?"

The older brother huffed. "Sure, Feli, just sit down."

"Ve~~~! Okay~!"

Matthew and Arthur took the way down to the Italian duo by stairs, while the older glared at them through his dark chestnut hair. "It's about time you two showed up."

"Better than not coming at all," the Canadian remarked, and Lovino snorted, before the former turned to the new arrival. "Did Yao mention something in his letter about the eyes of a demon?"

The Englishman nodded as he sat down by the sweeter of the brothers. "Something about their behaviors being determined by their eye color," he guessed.

Lovino nodded, sour mood lessening as he spoke. "Depending on the eye colors of demons, they have certain behaviors that are different from Sons of the Dark of different iris colors. For instance," his cheeks glowed a bright red, and he bowed his head with a smile, "A-Antonio and Francis are in the same category because of their eyes- deep blood red- and have close to the same behaviors."

"And Ludwig is in another category," Feliciano sighed dreamily with a flush of his face as well. "His eyes are so pretty and pale."

Arthur bowed his head in slight embarrassment. "Alfred has the same pair as Ludwig."

Almost instantly, the younger Italian jumped up and clapped his hands. "That's so wonderful~! Do you know what that means, Arthur~?" The blond shook his head cautiously, and the hazel-eyed angel grinned even wider. "It's wonderful~! You're going to love it~!"

"Uh, Feli, I don't think-" Matthew began, but the Briton cut him off.

"Whot's it mean?" He wondered, eyes showing curiosity and demand. The Canadian nibbled on his lower lip nervously. "Matthew, I need to know. Whot does it mean?"

"Ah, well…according to the books here that Feli and Lovino looked in, there are approximately four iris shades. Demons with dark, black eyes that only have a purpose to capture and either kill or transform. Then, there are dark red eyes like blood, like what Francis and Antonio have."

"Okay, whot's that represent?"

"It stands for a demon that fell in love with a human," Lovino clarified. "But it also has the meaning of a passionate demon that wants love or lust."

"And that's whot you two have?"

The two lovers of Francis and (now) Antonio nodded, the latter more bashful than the other.

"Alright, whot else is there?"

"Well, there's demons with a wine red iris color, almost burgundy or claret. They don't have much of a desire to love, but they could like it either way. They're more serious and focus on wanting to do what they're meant to, but they don't mind having a bit of love."

Arthur now seemed overly anxious, and leaned forward over the books on the desk. "Whot about Alfred's eyes? Whot does it mean if a demon has pale red eyes?" This was important; he needed to know this, and fast. He had been wondering what those eyes meant for so long; he needed to know _now_.

Matthew gulped, and bowed his head. "Those with pale red eyes…are lonely and looking for love. They want to be loved, a-and they go through so many humans and angels before they find their perfect match and bond with them. And…th-that's what Alfred has with you…why he is what he is."

The Englishman blinked and sat back down in his chair, amazement and surprise shown on his face. That explained the childishness, the immaturity, the little nicknames. Everything Alfred did now made sense. Crazy, American, endearing Alfred. Alfred who was so foolish and careless and seemed to care so much for him. Why did the American have to fall for an angel like Arthur? Why did he have to be so…oh, what was he to him? Why did that innocent, childlike demon make him so confused and make his mind swim with what was wrong and what was right? Just…why?

There was yelling beside him and his shoulders were shaking from Feliciano, and Arthur realized he was hyperventilating, panicking rapidly. The more he realized his breathing was harsh, the faster the breaths left his body. Lovino was trying to catch his attention, snapping his fingers and switching from Italian to English rapidly. Matthew got out of his chair to help him, but the Brit was already out of it.


	10. Assistance

**Hello again~! I realized this took a bit longer than I intended it to be. I was hoping for March 1st or something. Oh wells.**

**So! I survived a tornado warning! :D Yeah, where I live, my city got bad rain and hail and stuff like that, but otherwise we're fine. We survived. :3 But I was freaked out because, well, there's a New Yorker in one of her first tornadoes, how do ya think she's gonna react? I mean, c'mon. Get real.**

**Anyways~~~ I decided I'm going to add in a few more characters to help Arthur along and into Alfred's arms happily. Yeah, so you'll see two more Nordics in this chapter, and then Yao and Kiku a few chapters from now, and yadda yadda yadda I don't really know anymore XD But just to spoil it for you, no Alfred again in this chapter. Yeah...sorry. I was hoping for it though! I WANTED Alfred to be in here, but it already got too long. NEXT chapter, though, he'll be here.**

**At the last minute :shot:**

**Again...sorry.**

**So, before my random shit starts to bore you even more than it does, I own nothing but the plot. Everything belongs to the Prusome Himaruya. As usual, enjoy~! And thank you for I-Watch-You-In-Your-Sleep for beta-ing this for me! ^-^ :waves: Thanks, buddeh~!**

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><p>Chapter 10:<p>

Assistance

_Yao,_

_My dear friend, it has been so long since I have last seen you. It seems like a millennium ago, we last saw each other. I hope to see you soon, since we are both in the same area, as you may have been informed. I am writing to confirm your letter being delivered to me. I will take those thoughts within mind, and put them to of use. But I have a bit of trouble that I will tell you of when we once again meet._

_I know of their eyes. My demon possesses pale red, one of loneliness. His name is Alfred, and he seems to be in love with me. I am not sure what I think, but I can say right now that I am still thinking about it. I am debating on to follow my heart or my head. They prove a point that Angels and Demons do not go together, but one says forget that and love him, and the other is the opposite. I am too confused right now, and the more I find out and discover, the more drastic things will get for me and my subconscious. But I'm sure everything will work out alright._

_I hope your new "master" treats you well. I worry about you now and every day, even as I write this. I am sorry for your poor health; my heart twists in agony for your pain. It must be difficult. I have but few injuries still healing from the test in which I last saw you, but I am fine now thanks to a healing bath that I had taken. My wings, however, are damaged if just slightly. One is bent back, but not far enough that repair isn't possible, and both are sore from being knocked around. But I am sure I can survive, as can you. You have survived many experiences, you've said. Put that knowledge and experience to use, good friend. For now, I rest, with hope that you are better soon. I end here, my thoughts with you in hopes you can recover fully._

_Your dear friend_

_Arthur_

_Also, how about you ask your "master" for a bit of exercise, or perhaps a wash in the water that comes from the mountain? It may strengthen you some._

* * *

><p>Arthur had woken up in one of the comfier chairs, with a blanket draped over his lap and a cup of tea on the table in front of him. According to the others, he hadn't been out for that long; only a few hours. His body felt sore, though, and his wings felt as if they had been bruised severely and continuously from a sledgehammer. Matthew asked if he was alright and made sure he had nothing overly agonizing painful, but sat by him while they conversed. Lovino and Feliciano did the same, the former paying attention while the latter doodled all over a paper he had been given. The Briton, blanket draped over his shoulders, fiddled with the end of the cloth, weaving his fingers in between the ends as he finished off his letter for Matthew to deliver to Yao once Francis was back. The older Italian and Canadian decided it would be best if the brothers stayed here in the library, just in case the demons arrived back home during what was considered nighttime down here and decided to ransack any of the houses. The two, after the latter insured that the Briton was alright, traveled up the stairs and through the secret passageway to the house to gather a few more sleep necessities, leaving Feli and Arthur alone.<p>

Now, it wasn't that the Englishman was an unsocial person. He could hold a conversation with the right person if he was in a good mood. He was a British gentleman, after all; and the English were always proper etiquette and whatnot. However, Feliciano was a god compared to him when it came to a societal group. The Italian could come up with a topic to talk about faster than one can blink. And when he didn't choose a topic, he always joined in whatever they were talking about. It was almost like his specialty. So it was no surprise when Lovino and Matthew left, he turned around with a wide grin. "So! Do you like Hell so far~?"

…

Arthur was a bit dumbstruck, to say the least. Was Hell some sort of special event he enjoyed? The blond blinked, nonetheless, to wrap his mind around the question, and he could only answer with a "I'm sorry, but…whot did you say?"

The shorter angel scooted over a bit closer to him now. "Ve~, I asked if you were happy here~!" He grinned. "I just wanted to know since we both have demons that have the same eye color. I was just wondering if you were happy with him~!"

"Happy with who?"

He giggled quietly, the sound smooth and little. "Your demon friend, of course~! Who else~?"

"O-oh…" A blush rose onto his cheeks rather quickly, and he covered it up by taking the tea cup (still warm and half finished) and took a few sips as he contemplated on the thought, not looking at the other.

"I was just thinking." He sighed, and leaned back in his chair with a dreamy look plastered on his face. "Ludwig is so kind and nice to me, he always makes sure I'm okay and…makes sure I'm okay and not in pain. He's so wonderful." His head was resting against the armrest, but he sat up just as quickly as he had asked the question. "So! Are you happy with him?"

"U-uhm, well…I wouldn't exactly say 'happy' as of right now." He gazed down at the cup in his hand in guilt. _That dream was so real…how could I have had it? It destroyed so much between me and Alfred. It destroyed…I don't know. Ugh_; he rubbed his forehead to soothe his headache, _I don't even know anymore._

Feliciano frowned almost instantly. "Oh…I'm sorry."

He glanced up at the piteous boy that fiddled with the pencil in his hand. "Why would you be sorry, lad?"

He hiccupped slightly. "Because you're not happy with Alfred…and you don't know what you're missing."

Arthur started to speak, but Matthew and Lovino returned from their search, and the former quieted down for the rest of the night.

* * *

><p>The next morning, the four woke up to growls, snarls and screams coming from above the Surface. The demons were home, and the other three should be returning as well. Ergo, Lovino and Feliciano would once again depart and Arthur would have to hide away somehow. It seemed difficult, what with his current physical state and status, but he knew he would make it somehow. So, their morning was one that took place in a deep silence besides the more joyful Italian's constant little chatter to his older brother. It wasn't until the duo was going up the stairs, Lovino trying to shut his brother up, when Matthew finally spoke.<p>

"Hey, Arthur? Can I talk to you real quick?" He wondered shyly, wringing his hands nervously. The blond, who had already placed a foot on the stairway, nodded after a moment of thought and took his sandaled foot down.

"Yes?" Arthur blinked in waiting as the Canadian moved closer to him, and took a deep breath to prepare himself when he reached him.

"I was just wondering- and you don't have to answer me or anything- but…where exactly do you plan on staying if you're, well…y'know…not residing there anyone?"

The emerald-eyed male looked down in embarrassment. He had thought a great deal about the situation the whole sleepless "night" and morning, so much that he found his only option to just stay away from the Mountain of the Three Fates. Find somewhere new in Hell. Find someone else. Forget about Alfred. It pained his heart to do so, and to even think about forgetting Alfred, but he knew he had to. If he wanted to live, he had to leave the kind, childish demon behind both physically and mentally.

"If you don't, I'm sure Francis wouldn't mind letting you stay here in the library. I could give you some food when you need it, and we can let you hang around the little house-"

"I don't wish to be a burden on you two," he forced himself to smile. "I already seem to be on…A-Alfred." He gulped down the lump in his throat so he could finish his sentence. "I'll be fine anywhere else, Matthew. I promise."

"Arthur, I don't want you going anywhere else because it's too dangerous to go out there alone. Trust me; I've been further away than you have."

"Matthew, I'm sure I'll be fine. I experienced and nearly lived through the London Blitz." Before he could finish on his disagreement, he pulled the Englishman to the side and stared straight into his eyes.

"If you go out there without a demon by your side then you'll be destroyed. You'll be ripped to shreds before you can even think about where to hide, Arthur, because if you go anywhere besides here you'll only end up meeting bloodlust demons. They sense an angel's blood miles away and will fly across expansive land just to reach it. Do you understand me?" His grip was taut, and he seemed to be in great distress. "Please, Arthur, just stay here until we can figure your problem with Alfred out."

Arthur managed to worm his way out of his hands. "If I don't leave, then I'm never getting out of here."

"_None_ of us are leaving, Arthur! _Please_, just stay here and wait for everything to- _Arthur, wait!_"

The Brit flew up to the top of the stairs and to the corridor, where he quickly shut the door and locked it, before grabbing a chair and shoving it under the doorknob as it started to quiver from the hands it was being hit with and the exclamations that went past it. Arthur leaned against the door, breathing heavily and forehead resting upon it, tears welling in his eyes but not falling once.

"_Arthur, let me out of here, please! This is important! If any demons walk in expecting me they're going to get you! Please, Arthur, just let me out of here!_"

"I'm so sorry," he whispered through the shouting, and dashed down the hall until the sobs and screams were muffled by the door. And just as it was predicted, he walked out of the secret entrance, hid it again, went past the bedroom and kitchen and rammed himself right into a demon as he was about to get out, sending him to the ground on his bottom in a matter of seconds. He stood up quickly, wanting to get out as quick as he could, but someone- rather, two Sons of the Dark- stopped him from going any further.

They were both demons like Antonio and Francis, eyes a deep blood red that showed they were in love with someone. The taller of the two had wild, jet-black hair that looked as if it had been electrocuted and ruffed by a hand at the same time. His wings were flush against his back, and his clothes disheveled, with a rip in the right shoulder. The shorter had hair that Arthur found unusual to see: dark red, nearly a wine color and much neater than the one with more height. A lone hair curl floated, without any seen attachment to his body, just above his shoulder and under his left ear. Like his companion, his clothes were just as messy, if not more, but missing a large portion of the left sleeve's upper area. The taller whistled, and looked the shorter up and down.

"Well would ya look at that," he smiled wide, his accent similar to Tino's, as his eyes met Arthur's, who gulped under being examined. "I told ya we'd find him here."

"No you didn't, you said we'd find him at the bottom of the lake," the shorter snorted in an accent just as rich as his, crossing his arms and wincing at the pain of most likely his upper left limb. The blonde's eyes widened, and the taller pouted.

"Aw, look what you did, Lukas, you scared him! Great, now I have to help him." With a final murmur from the shorter, the former demon grinned. "_ kid, the name's Mathias. Word's been around you're here to help Alfred. That true?"

The angel blinked in shock. Help Alfred? What did he mean by that? "Um, I don't quite…get whot you're asking," he timidly informed them.

Mathias' eyebrows furrowed, and sucked in air in thought before glancing at the demon beside him. "Lukas, help me out here. How do I explain Alfred's in l- hey, kid!"

The Englishman shoved past the two, making it only out the door when he was stopped by the demons standing in front of him, growling and snarling. With a gasp, he took a step back. What were they all doing here? They weren't supposed to be here! _Oh, great…I should've listened to Matthew._

"Where's the Canadian?" The leader Arthur recognized as Sadık from the invasion on Heaven wondered, mask still on his face, but smirked when he concentrated on the blond. "Ah…Feathers. How lovely to meet once again in a sitation like this."

"Whot are you doing here?" He asked in a trembling voice, trying to hold the fear back.

"Well, when word came around that you were missing, we just had to come find you. Rewards for finding missing angels are rather…_tas_ty." He licked his lips, eliciting a gasp from the Briton. "Plus, we already have two others," he gestured to his right, showing the weeping forms of the hysterical Feliciano and ashamed Lovino. Arthur's eyes widened in shock, and Sadık chuckled. "Yes, Beautiful. And as soon as we have you-"

"Don't call me that."

The Turkish demon quirked up both eyebrows, and held back a laugh. "I'm sorry?"

"Don't call me that," he repeated with the worse glare he could muster.

This time, he let the sound out. "Oh Feathers, I have a higher authority than you ever will. I can call you what I would like."

"No one calls me that."

"Oh? What about your master? Isn't he allowed to do so?"

The Englishman stopped, eyes wide in shock and cheeks rosy. "Th-that's different." Oh, that was an entirely different situation. You couldn't even compare them. Not ever.

The Turk smirked. "I see that perfectly." He turned to face the two men holding the brothers. "Put the two in the back of the carriage, we'll see how much we can get for them later."

Arthur found he watched in horror as Lovino was picked up roughly, wings flapping in every direction, before two demons tossed him into an ebony carriage, sealing it off. Feliciano cried and tried to desperately reach for his brother, sobbing as he did so. The blond clenched his hands tautly, eyes narrowing as he experienced an unusual emotion in him. This feeling of bravery, of confidence, rose in him and cause a roaring fire to course in him as if on a roller coaster. He raised his body into the air, before he built up speed in seconds and rammed his head into the Turkish demon's back, sending him face forward into the dirt. And just as soon as the feeling was there, it was gone. _O-oh no…whot have I done?_ "I-I'm so sorry, I-I-I wasn't thinking, a-a-and-"

He was caught off as a fist pulled him to eye level by using his white garment. He whimpered at the harsh, jet-black glare he received. What was it the others had said? Demons with jet-black eyes only had a purpose to kill? He was in trouble.

"You think we're going to let you go?" He wondered, breathing into the angel's face. The latter's face scrunched up in disgust. "Guess again, Feathers; 'cuz you ain't goin' nowhere."

_Crash!_

Just as the carriage was sealed, Lovino was throw from it screaming. A large, brown bull stepped away from it, puffing air out in annoyance as two black birds, just as big as he, landed in front of the demons and screeched in their ears. Feli cried out in what was hopefully relief, and the demon holding him was suddenly slashed to bits of dust and a stench of blood. Arthur was, to say the least, was confused, and it increased as a long, vicious snarl that wasn't unlike a wildcat echoed to the blond, and rammed into the demon holding him up. The Brit had enough time to fly backwards and keep himself steady on two feet. He watched the big cheetah rip the other demon to bits of particles, before he glanced over at him with eyes as blue as the ocean. The cat sauntered over to him, transforming hastily into his demon form once again to be recognized as Francis, irises their normal color.

"W'ere is my _amour_?" He demanded to know, arms crossed and deep red eyes flaring in anger. The guardian angel gulped.

"The back of the house," he replied, and he noticed the Frenchman raise an eyebrow in curiosity, and he dropped his voice to a whisper. "The library."

Francis looked back at the fighting, black eagles (one which Feliciano had taken cover on top of) and the brown bull (supporting a passed out Lovino) before glaring at the Englishman. "If I find one 'air 'armed on _mon ange's_ 'ead, you will be dead, Feathered Snob. Understood?"

Arthur nodded, and watched as the demon entered the house, and the two he had met before nearly ran into him. The taller, Mathias, grabbed hold of his shoulder roughly, jumping into the air and explaining something about attacks and blood and something else that couldn't be recognized through his rapid talk of what sounded like a mix of English and two Nordic languages, most likely Danish and Norwegian. The smaller male, Lukas, rolled his eyes and gripped the other hand.

"Look," he glared without too much hate inside, "if you want to live, you're coming with us. If you want to die, you can stay here and be slaughtered in that mess the Trio and Ludwig are causing."

The angel looked from the duo to the fight, and find he didn't have much of a choice.

* * *

><p>In what seemed to be no time at all, Arthur found himself on the mountainside of a smaller mountain just near the Mountain of the Three Fates, crawling into a hidden opening that was just able to get his wings in without any damage. Lukas helped him through the cavern, when Mathias returned from sealing the entrance, lighting the candles to show them the way with more light pouring through to help guide them. The angel couldn't help but examine the roughly shaped grove, molded into half a circle with holders for a torch. He wondered how long it continued on, how many passageways did it have, where it led to.<p>

"Ya like it?" Mathias chuckled at Arthur's reaction. "Yeah, it's pretty awesome. Won't be staying here for long, though. Gotta get back out there, help you find your way back to Alfred."

"Why are you helping me?" He wondered as they came across an opening filled with first aid materials. Lukas stopped to pick up a few, and then continued on.

"Well, see, Alfred's a dear companion of our's-"

"Yours," the ruby-haired demon interrupted, causing the taller to laugh.

"Of _mine_, then," his friend gave a weak glare and strong smirk back at him, "that was pretty, eh…how do I say it without hurting his reputation?"

"He was freaking out and looking for you like some madman," Lukas finished, and Mathias pouted.

"Well, that wasn't nice."

"No, you're right. It was the truth."

"You're mean."

"So go live somewhere else."

"But I can't leave my heart behind with you." The shorter looked back in shock, footsteps ceasing as the taller. "_Mit hjerte tilhører dig_."

Lukas threw a wrapped collection of bandages at the taller Nordic demon, glaring at him with a light blush. "Shut up, Mathias, you can flirt later."

"I'll only shut up because you said later." He winked at him after he said that, causing the Son of the Dark to mumble in what was probably Norwegian as they started walking. Arthur followed with a light trace of amusement on his face. They seemed to be in deep love with each other, which seemed strange considering they were both demons and had blood red eyes.

_The two of them, Mathias and Lukas, they seem to be in love with each other instead of a human,_ he pondered. _Doesn't that mean they're in love with a mortal, when they have blood red eyes? Or does it not matter what their eye color is? Demons are turning out to be more confusing than I thought._

"So, Feathers," Mathias interrupted his thoughts in a friendly tone. "Whatcha think 'bout Alfred?"

The angel took a moment to think about this. What _did_ he think about Alfred? "Um…well, whot exactly do you mean?" He wondered.

"Eh, well, what do you like most about him? Like for me, I like when Lukas gets all flustered when I say stuff like '_Jeg elsker dig_' or '_Ligegyldigt hvad der sker, vil jeg altid være med dig_'; and when he quietly whispers stuff in Norwegian to me in response, or we hug and kiss, or when he surprises me with something really nice, and…all that stuff. Yeah;" he sighed, and lightly laughed as the Norwegian glanced back at him. "And all the little things, like his hair curl or his eyes or his smile. They're so… _yndig _; adorable, ya know?" Both the demons were blushing by the end of his little confession, and Lukas was even laughing quietly and smiling. "What about you Arthur? What makes you so attractive to Alfred?"

The Brit's face was a common shade that he found himself sporting nowadays, a matched ruby red on each side of his face. What did _he_ like about Alfred? Well…the pet names that he had been given were nice. A-and his smile was nice. A-and his eyes…his eyes seemed like valuable treasures that someone would have to keep locked up and hidden- a mummy in a sarcophagus, concealed in a pyramid. "I-I don't like Alfred that way," he replied, sheepishly toying with the hem of the robe he wore.

"Eh? But…wait, you don't like him?"

"W-well, I do, just…" _Why do I have to say this!_ "Just not in that way."

Mathias sucked in air from his mouth. "Lukas, wait a second." The aforementioned did so, and the former motioned toward a set-up of rocks that were positioned against the wall. "Sit down for a sec, Arthur. I wanna tell you a story."

The angel cautiously sat down on one of the smoother topped rocks, positioning his feet on a smaller rock nearby, before resting his hands in his lap. The tall demon took his place directly across from Arthur, and cleared his throat.

"Okay, so: Once upon a time, there were two dudes. One was an awesome and handsome Dane, and the other was a sexy Norwegian."

Lukas leaned against the wall opposite of them, and his (most definitely) lover chuckled.

"Anyways, it was 1806 when they met, and they were really close friends and hung out a lot- even though the Dane was 'annoying' in some way and the Norwegian was always emotionless and sometimes not friendly, but they got along…most of the time." The demon standing scoffed at the comment, receiving a short raspberry. "I'm not done, now shush!" He smiled back at Arthur, laughing at the jolt of surprise he was given for changing emotions so fast. "So, anyways, now the year is 1814, and they were told that Norway had its own set of laws, and the land that was previously owned by Denmark was now given to Sweden. And now, their families never liked the other, so they forced the two apart, keeping the Dane in Copenhagen and the Norwegian in Oslo. It was very depressing for both, and they were permitted from even sending letters. And, within a few months' time, the Dane died of heartbreak.

"Now, you know, the Dane was obviously brought to heaven. He liked it, it was really nice, he guarded the gate that led new souls in, had a position as a Powers Rank. But he still missed his friend, so he waited patiently for him. He didn't know how long it was until it happened, but by the time he was on the verge of giving up, there was an attack by the demons. And the Dane was really scared; like, he wanted to shit himself."

"Shit…?" Arthur murmured, letting the curse float over his tongue carefully. He vaguely remembered using curses as a human, but it was forbidden to use them in Heaven.

"Yep; he also wanted a bit of beer or something to sort of help him along, but of course, no alcohol was allowed, so he had no motivation. No confidence, no support, nothing. Just him and the other Powers Rank angels. But he did pretty good; he killed at least five before he fell."

"Fell?" He tilted his head slightly in confusion. You could fall from Heaven? He didn't know that was possible.

Mathias nodded. "Yeah, had his wings hacked right off. Fell through the clouds and down straight to Hell, where he landed in that river nearby. Luckily, someone fished him out and left him by the water, but when he woke up, he was totally not an angel anymore. No way; he was a demon, transformed only because he was a fallen angel. And it sucked. His back was always hurting, his heart did too because he found out that he was in love with his Norwegian friend. And he felt like now, he wasn't ever going to meet him. Like, ever.

"Until one day, after a rampage on a village, he met a wounded angel that looked just like his friend. Same hair, same eyes, same scowl, same voice. So, he helped him up and down into Hell, where he took care of him until he was better and should have gotten ready to leave. But, there was a slight problem."

"Whot was that?" He asked, pulling his legs up to his chin and pressing them flush against his body.

"Well, his angel friend said he wanted to be a demon if it meant he got to stay with me. And the only way an angel can change into a demon is if they break their halo enough for it to break in two and they have their wings ripped clean off their bodies."

"And did you?"

It took him a moment, but eventually Mathias nodded. "I ripped his wings off as gently as I could, but I mean," he scoffed, to what was unknown; "your wings are being separated from your skin. There's no way it _can't_ hurt, right?"

"So…you transformed him? Just so you can be together."

"Yep." He glanced over at Lukas, who was looking off to the side and slightly flexing his wings. "But it was worth it because I loved him. Just him; because he was so wonderful and was one of the only people able to put up with me. He never yelled at me or told me to go away; always so nice even if he said something rudely."

Arthur blushed slightly at the mention of loving another male. "You really love him then." He glanced from one Son to the other. "Both of you."

Lukas' cheeks glowed red, but he nodded nonetheless. "I grew fond of the idiot. Sue me."

"I never thought it was possible." He pushed a strand of hair behind his ear. "No one ever loved me that wasn't family, and even then I only had my mum. I've never even had a proper kiss."

Mathias raised his eyebrows in shock. "Damn…you're pretty innocent then, huh?"

He nodded meekly. "And I act so awkward around Alfred, it makes me feel so guilty towards him. I just want to…I don't know. I have no clue how to sort everything out."

The Norwegian took this time to sit beside his lover, who stood up and started searching through the medical supplies. "Everything starts with the question: do you love him more than as a companion?" He stated clearly, eyes intent on helping the Brit. Arthur didn't have any time to get an answer; he just had to sort his head out quickly.

* * *

><p>After healing any wounds they all may have had, they found themselves back at the entrance, standing over the edge of the mountain. Lukas and Mathias stood together, hands intertwined and shoulders touching, with Arthur in front of them. His wings looked and felt fresher and stronger, ready to return to their original purpose to help him fly. A soft, somehow able wind brushed back both the feathers and his bushy blond locks of hair, as if giving him a sign that the breeze would help him fly. He took one last glance at the Scandinavian duo, the taller whispering sweet nothings and pressing a kiss to the shorter male's ear, causing blushes and sweet smiles that stabbed at his heart. These two made him show that love of any race or color or species could be possible as long as they made it. The Brit managed a kind smile at them.<p>

"Hope everything is alright with you two," he said in a quiet, nearly inaudible voice, but the Dane laughed lightly.

"Thanks, Arthur. And don't be afraid of your heart. It may be the only thing to help you right now," he smiled, and winked at the last sentence. Lukas nudged his boyfriend.

"Everything will be alright, Arthur. Trust us," he commented. The blond nodded, and took a step forward, but stopped, and retraced his stride.

"Whot if I doubt it's true? O-or if he doesn't want to see me anymore and sends me back? O-or-"

"Arthur." The Norwegian's stern voice was the only thing to calm him down. "Everything will turn out alright in the end as long as you go at it and don't doubt your heart. You just have to trust yourself."

The guardian gulped down any fear, and gave his wings a quick flap before he spread them out on either side. _Now or never, Arthur. You can jump and go back to that crazy American, or you can jump and get away from his place. Both are right there. Just choose._

Arthur jumped.


	11. Rescue

**Anonymous Reviews:**

_**Leo:**_** Ah, yes, that. Well, see, as I mentioned a few chapters back, I'm a realist writer, so I write the dialogue as to how it would be heard, like Japan wouldn't say his l's and France his th's or h's, and so on and so forth. So, I noticed in some certain dialects of British-English (and this is going by ear via Doctor Who), there have been instances where the a in "what" would sound like a drawled o, making the word "whot". But that's how I imagine Arthur speaking, so I added it in so the reader has a "feel" on how the character is speaking :3**

_**CelestialCiel:**_** Bueno~! To answer your question from the sixth chapter, yes, Alfred did meet Arthur first in heaven. And I LOVE USUK UNCONTROLLABLY! :D Oh yes~!**

**_Bonjour_, readers~! Did I ever tell you guys how much I love you all? Because I do, I really do~ ^-^ Honestly? I'm so close to 100 reviews and I'm nearly at 14,000 hits. That's, like...I dunno, I feel so famous! And I absolutely adore writing for you guys, because it's fun for me, AND I get to torture you all with cliffhangers- I MEAN, WHAT?**

**Heh, naaah, just kidding~! I love entertaining you guys! Even though that sounds like something that France would say OHONHONHON~~~! ;D**

**So, before I start to put you to sleep before you actually READ the story, I own nothing here except for the plot. And the setting. I think. Hidekaz (I probably spelt it wrong -_- meh) Himaruya owns Hetalia and all recognizable characters. Oh! And did you know, Himaruya is currently working on volume 5 of Hetalia? Do you know what that means for us, fans? A possible season 5 :D :dies:**

**Ahaha! Okay. I'm done now, this is longer than the chapter. Enjoy~!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 11:<p>

Rescue

Arthur discovered that as an angel, he loved to fly.

He didn't know why, however. Maybe it was how free he felt, with the wind pushing at him and he rebelling against it. Or maybe the sights he saw beneath and above and ahead and to the side, all surrounding him and overwhelming him with the utter beauty no matter where he was located. Or the sounds he could pick up, the gentle gale against his ears, the graceful patter of his wings tapping on one another to keep him up. It was simply extravagant to be able to stretch his wings out and soar over the land below him. So it was no surprise to him that as soon as he jumped, he let his wings out and kept himself aloft in the air.

His first reaction was relief, and he smiled slightly at the fact that his wings were still strong despite the abuse they had briefly gone through, and he turned his head to look at the two still standing on the cliff. He gave a wave of his hand as he pressed his body against the air, continuing in the direction he had previously come from. Mathias returned the gesture wildly, Lukas giving a slacked salute as the angel rotated around and was off, in hopes he had made the right decision.

From the sky, Hell didn't seem too bad. It was (obviously) the complete opposite of Heaven, except for the fact that it seemed to go on forever. Where his former home had a beautiful view of the sky and seemed lively and safe, down here had land similar to a desert and everything reeked of danger. Most of the trees were bare and seemed to have branches covered in what appeared to be thorns. The rare flowers that were around were black, no matter if it was impossible or not. The smell of flames and dirt was everywhere, but despite those setbacks, the view of the sky, with its blood red tint and radiating heat, was rather beautiful. Arthur averted his gaze momentarily from the ground to gaze up ahead at the Mountain of the Three Fates, instantly eyeing the cliff where he had last seen Alfred.

_Ah, there it is. Just a minute or so and I'll have reached it…hm? Whot's that?_

A small, dark dot was hastily making his way towards him. He struggled to see it closer, to try and make out any features, but failed for the time being.

_Hm. No worries, it'll probably be gone by the time I reach- wait a second…whot was it Matthew had said? Demons with black eyes can smell an angel miles away? No, that can't be it._

He glanced back up at the dot, and he could clearly see several more following its motives. Jaded eyes widened in disbelief, and he slowed down, stopping his short journey.

_Whotever it was he said, I have to get out of here._ Any possible escape routes? He glanced around him quickly, and saw numerous approaching blobs coming towards him. _Not many. Oh great…there has to be a way!_ A single glimpse down at his shadow gave him an idea as he could now make out the Sons clearly, their ragged skin and wild eyes lavishing him mentally. _There's no time to turn back. I can't keep on going to Alfred, I won't be fast enough. I have to distract them._ He took a big gulp of air, and took another look below him at the large rocks set up. _If you want to see him again…you're going to have to go on with this._ Taking a well-deserved breath of air, he floated down to the ground and landed on the largest rock, lying back so that his hair and wings were splayed out above and on either side of him. He gulped. _Please don't let this be the worst mistake of my afterlife._

The demons, just as he had expected, changed their attention and direction to below them and snarled at him as they landed, some by or beside him and others nearby. The Brit took a deep breath and managed a smile at them. His response was several growls, some spit flying past him. He held back the cry he wanted to let out.

_Be strong, Arthur. You can do this. Don't panic. Keep calm. Don't worry. You can do this._ "H-hello," he greeted, managing to force the smile to his face and keep it there. "How nice you met me here."

One of the closest to him took a good whiff of his skin, smirking at Arthur and giving his lips and fangs a lick. "Ah," he sighed, and snickered. "We get to feast on an English angel."

_Oh, no! Whot have I done?_ He forced the laugh past his quivering lips. "Y-yes, imagine all the tastes you can have from one bite." _Why am I doing this, why am I doing this, why am I doing this, why-_

Another Son leaned over him, dripping some saliva from his mouth. "All of that thin meat under your slender limbs, sticking to your bones," he murmured, holding his left wrist up to examine it. The angel swallowed a lump of fear in his throat.

"Beautiful, dark, warm blood," another whispered, and proceeded to run his hand up his lanky thighs, causing the squeak that was previously held back out. The others cackled loudly as another lifted the end of his robe. This time, a scream replaced his inaudible whining. The first demon laughed rudely, spraying the smaller male with spittle. Arthur winced, but was able to make a smile arise on his lips.

"You all want this, don't you?" He lowered his eyelids, letting them stay halfway down. "But only one can have it."

"Let me take a bite of your neck," the one holding his wrist growled in a heavy voice. "I promise it won't hurt you that much. Maybe you'll even be converted and be by my side."

The first (and most likely the leader of the group) growled and shoved the other away. "This one is mine. You can get the next." Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but a yelp came out instead, that from the chilly claw and finger that somehow sneaked to his butt cheeks and traced the indent that separated them.

"I would like to have a go at him," he sneered, and leaned in between the speechless Englishman's leg to lick.

"ALFRED!"

The yell was out and echoed before any of the demons could stop it, just before the tongue made contact to him. He sighed as the torture stopped, and shut his eyes for a moment of relaxation. He didn't even remember how he had gotten himself here.

_At least I was near his house. I don't know whot I would have done if I hadn't been._

A quick jerk of his halo caused him to gasp and grasp at the ring, eyes stinging with tears. "A-ah!" He managed to alert the torturers of his pain. He shut his lids tightly over the emerald pair as another tug sent him to release the liquid from his eyes.

"Why did you call him?" The leader demanded to know.

"You shouldn't have done that, angel," jeered the demon in front of his leg. The one with a hold on his wrist glared in anger.

"I bet he's Alfred's pet that's been missing," he grumbled. "Aren't ya, angel?"

Arthur glanced up at them, breaths coming out in pained pants, eyes wide and hands still holding on to his halo. "Wh-whot does it matter?" He stuttered out. "H-he's coming e-either wa-_ahhh!_" The hand that didn't belong to him clutched his halo squeezed it tautly in his hold, the cause of the scream.

"Just because your master's coming doesn't mean we don't have to run," the head of the group sneered, and picked the Englishman so he was slung over one shoulder with a cry. The others prepared for flight as the blond looked around frantically.

"Whot's happening?" He wondered shakily, receiving snickers that made his heart beat faster in anxiety.

"You're the main attraction for our feast," one of the taller demons smirked, causing the Englishman to gulp.

"Al-ALFRE_mm_!" A gag that tasted of bile and another, bitter taste was put in and around his mouth to silence him. Another piece of cloth was wound around his wings, wrists behind his back, and ankles, holding them in place so he couldn't escape. He yelled past the restraint on his mouth, thrashing his body to escape and kicking his legs furiously, trying not to beat his once again painful feathered appendages. Some of the demons clawed at him painfully to shut him up, but that only increased the shouts, more and more until his arms and sides were a scarred mess—

_Pinch._

His body relaxed at the peaceful waves that washed over him and consumed him, dragging him beneath the difference of reality and a dream. He saw the ground become farther and farther away but didn't bother to scream. He noticed the Mountain of the Three Fates forming into a tall point jutting from the ground and didn't bother to try and reach for it again.

And suddenly, he wasn't with this crazed demon, but with Alfred. Alfred holding him and bringing him into his arms and caressing his face, pressing his face against the shorter male's chest while his arms supported him under his bum. Arthur managed a cheerful laugh and ran a hand through the gold locks, the texture soft like silk. The American grinned up at him, nuzzling him and causing more ripples of laughs out, and he repeated the sounds.

Arthur realized he wanted to be there. In Alfred's arms. With Alfred. And he wanted to stay there. Badly.

Desperately.

Oh, how he wanted to be there so much.

"_Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are?_" Alfred commented with a wide smile that reached his eyes. "_Because you are the most gorgeous, most prettiest, most amazing Thornless Rose that I have ever seen. You shame the sky and the moon and the stars and the sun- and anything else that's pretty, because they can't even combine to match you._"

Arthur chuckled. "_Oh, really now?_" He beamed, and placed a kiss along his hairline. And this time, he didn't deny or stop. He placed gentle, soft kisses along the ruffled hair, dodged the cowlick, and trailed downwards to his face, where he was brought down slowly as he placed his lips against his forehead, each temple, the tip of his nose, and-

He was roughly grabbed out of the daydream and into reality, pulled from the shoulder and into a pair of arms that felt so foreign yet so familiar. He yelped in astonishment at the sudden change, but his eyes widened when he saw who was holding him and bringing him back at an amazing speed.

Alfred.

His bat wings were furiously beating, eyebrows furrowed and irises letting up from being so dark, as if he was calming down from a ticked-off state. His breath came out quietly in little puffs, needy for air but Arthur could tell he wasn't willing to stop to gather any. The blonde's ear lay against the location of the heart, and he nearly sighed when he detected the thumps, _tha-thump, tha-thump, tha-thump_, that made him close his eyes and want to snuggle into the chest, like a polar bear would to a pile of snow. The beats and the steady connection of leather wings soon turned into a soothing pattern for the Englishman, causing him to lean against the shoulder and shut his eyes.

"Don't go out on me, Beautiful! I need you to stay up!"

Alfred. Oh that young, innocent voice. Arthur weakly opened his eyes to gaze at the demon, ignoring the roars and growls behind them to look at the other. He didn't mind them like this; as long as they were together, he was fine.

Alfred finally landed on the cliff that was in front of his adobe-like home, and turned around and snarled, raising his lips to bare his fangs and protectively pull Arthur towards him. His wings extended outwards to the side, arms wrapping over the Englishman as if to protect him. The bloodthirsty demons halted and floated in front of them, sneering and wanting to reach the angel, but knowing the consequences if they did so. Eventually, after several minutes of fending off the lustful beings, the American finally had the ability and privacy to take the gag out and slash the rope pushing his wings together, relieving the smaller of the taste and letting him breathe a bit easier and bat his wings gently without any restraints on both.

"Are you alright, Gorgeous?" Alfred wondered, rubbing Arthur's face with his fingers in a concerned manner, checking his body and face for any damage. The Englishman chuckled.

"You'll find I'm just a bit shaken, Alfred," he smiled. "Nothing more than that." The Son of the Dark beamed, and pulled him closely for a hug. This time, a blush showed on his cheeks, but not once he was ashamed for showing.

"I'm so happy you're okay! I thought someone had taken you away." As he moved away from the shorter, freeing the blonde's ankles and wrists, the latter noticed the taller with that innocent glint in his eyes. "I thought…that you had forgotten about me."

The Brit looked away in guilt as he remembered the events just a day or so ago: the yelling, the hurt, the look he received from those eyes. "Alfred…I'm so sorry for making you feel that way. I didn't know…I was being so foolish, wasn't I?" He felt a gentle tip of a finger hold the curve of his cheek and pull his face towards him, to a small smile that made the Briton's heart melt and his breath caught.

"But I like you foolish, Arthur." He pushed back a few free strands of hair from the angel. "And I like you beautiful, too."

Arthur looked down and blushed, humming and rubbing his wrists. Alfred laughed lightly.

"I missed you a whole lot, Beautiful. I didn't stop thinking about you."

He bit his lips shyly, fiddling with the hem of his garment, completely speechless. _Alfred._

"I even got you something!" He reached into the pocket of his leather jacket and tugged out a perfectly unharmed rose, glistening with what appeared to be droplets of water that still collided with its ruby shaded petals. The stem fell perfectly into his hand, the shaven sides from removing the thorns ragged yet soft on his skin.

The Englishman smiled small, another dust appearing on his cheeks. "Alfred, you didn't have to." _I'm not going to deny myself anymore. It's hurting me too much, and I feel if I say it I'm relieving a lot of stress._

"But it's you! A Thornless Rose~, _hahahahaha_! Get it~? I _had_ to give it to you, I couldn't give it to anybody else!" He grinned, and jumped up quickly, carefully hoisting the other beside him. "I have more for you inside my house, come on~!"

Arthur gave a laugh as he was pulled along, the hand intertwined with his and not minding the contact. _Alfred, I'm in love with you. Only you. All of you. And I want you to be with me forever._


	12. Ponderings

**Hello dear readers~~~! :D It is I~, back again with a new chapter! X3 Sorry for (what seems to be) a really long wait. I had a Romeo and Juliet project due in English, so I had to get that done. And in the process, I have a blister on my thumb! How awesome is that? :D**

**It's not, it hurt like hell thanks to a stupid hot glue gun. Thanks hot glue gun! I blame you for global warming! :shakes fist:**

**Ahahahahaha~! Anywayssss~~~ how many of you are happy that Artie's finally like "Damn I love dat ass (Alfred's XD although Spain's is pretty yummy~ XD but that's Lovi's property)" I mean right? It's about time I removed the cockblock for these two! :D**

**Hahahaaaa nope! Sorry, dudes, it's still there. And it may not come for a loooooooong while. Soooo yeah. But there WILL be sexy times. Extreme sexy times. A lotta sexy times. Probably so many you're gonna be like "Ughhh we get it Lady Skarlett, they're crazy for each other!" But really, the sex will suck balls and I'll just sit here with the remainder of my Chinese food (aru) and be like "X3".**

**Okay, no more ramble! Let's get it onnnnnn! I do not own anything here besides the plot and stuff. So, as always:**

**Enjoy~!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 12:<p>

Ponderings

After Arthur had finally- _finally_- confirmed his love for the American demon, he discovered one major detail:

He could say it easily to himself (_You are my heart, my soul, my love, my dear, and I want nothing else but the same returned to me and for us to be together forever_) but he could barely make it out to him in person ("So have I wooed you yet, Arthur?" "A-almost there, Alfred. You're almost there.")

He didn't know why this happened; all he knew was that he was simply tongue-tied when it came to confessing his love, despite the fact that it had already been a day since he had returned to the American. They had already spent the rest of their time after being reunited chatting together, sitting with blankets draped over their laps as they sat on the roof, gazing at the dimming sky as they talked. They seemed to get to know each other even better than before, like how Arthur _still_ couldn't cook for his life, even after death, and how Alfred loved planes, or how one couldn't live without tea and the other coffee. The former discovered just how different they were, but that made the blond fall in love with him even more. And he couldn't remember much besides the stated above, but all he knew was he waked up on top of the silky bed sheets with a pair of arms around his waist, and a soft snore-followed breath brushing his ear.

When he first noticed how close he was to Alfred, his heart beat four times its normal rate and his face blossomed as red as roses as a grin fluttered upwards. He could once again feel the gentle thump and hear its pumping, causing Arthur to sigh at the sound, the most gracious sound his ears ever focused on, next to that heartwarming, innocent-dripping voice the demon owned. He ran a hand across the cheek not muffled by pillows, and Alfred nuzzled him more with a soft hum. With a chuckle, the Englishman dragged his hand gently through the ebony locks, making sure to dodge the one strand of hair (he could recall learning last night it was an erogenous zone) that was apparently referenced as Nantucket. The demon grinned and moved his head so he was able to get more contact with him, laughing lightly in his sleep. Arthur couldn't suppress the spread of his mouth, and started to get comfortable again, when his eyes caught the sight of his cut, sore arms. He frowned and touched one, wincing when the sensitivity hit the nerves at the bloody patterned wounds. Knowing he should take care of them soon, he quietly and quickly- so he wouldn't disturb the American- moved his legs onto the floor, and started to stand when a gentle pair of arms twirled around his waist and pulled him back. Instantly, he tensed up in alarm, but relaxed when his lower back was nudged lightly, followed by a loud whine.

Almost instantly, he stopped moving so as not to disturb the demon any more than he had. He could tell Alfred was not going to allow him to leave, whether he was conscious or not. With a silent chuckle and a rub of the ebony locks, he carefully removed the arms from his waist regretfully and stood up to leave for the pond that sat just in below the edge of the cliff they were residing on. He let his wings, having been pressed flush against his back while he snoozed, have a good stretch and flutter, flapping ever so carefully to loosen the muscles a bit. His arms reached over his head, and he closed his eyes at the feeling of his slackening muscles, slowly letting them become unknotted and limp.

From his place, Alfred once again groaned and splayed his left arm over the empty space of the mattress. Arthur shook his head while laughing quietly, smoothing back his fringe to place a gentle kiss on the forehead (he could've sworn the demon's face lit up in pleasure) and stepping back, grabbing the bouquet of mixed red and white roses he had received last night as a gift from the demon. For what, he didn't know, but the act was both kind and surprising, so he really didn't mind much.

He walked out of the small home and looked both ways, checking for any Sons of the Dark lurking around before he leaped off the edge and gently guided himself to the body of water he had been at before, landing close to the water but far away enough so that he wouldn't wet his clothes or the flowers. Placing the roses on the ground, he untied the light knots that led gold ties from under his knees to the sandals on his feet, and then toed off the footwear carefully. He let the gold rope around his waist unravel from around him, and then pooled it beside his shoes. Lastly, the white garment slid over his head and wings, leaving him bare and naked and vulnerable before graciously stepping into the liquid and onto his knees, before he glided backwards and leaned against the bank with a sigh, allowing his arms to be drenched with the water.

Arthur had never been alone for most of his childhood; his three brothers and one sister made sure of that. Even his younger cousin, Peter, made sure to it that he was constantly speaking or doing something social instead of reading in his room. But at school, he was somewhat of an outcast due to his appearance and then, eventually, in higher years, because of his smarts. No one paid him any mind, no one bothered him, and hardly anyone respected him besides family. He didn't mind until after the Blitz and his death, where he met Yao, Matthew and the Vargas brothers. He was always closer to the first two than the Italians, but otherwise he didn't ever venture out farther than those four until he was brought down to Hell. And even now, he discovered he almost wanted to stay attached to the American demon he had met only a week ago and discovered just yesterday that he had fell in love with him.

_It's not that bad. It's almost like "Romeo and Juliet". Lovers that aren't meant to be. Plus, that whole story was over a span of four days: meet on Sunday night, married Monday, Romeo exiled later that day, Juliet fakes her death Tuesday, and before you can breathe the two of them are dead on Wednesday. Heaven was attacked on a Monday; I woke up three days later on Thursday, had my trials, dreamed of Alfred, moved to Alfred's and realized that I might never get out of here at all on that day; I had another dream of Alfred on Friday, and had the fight during the day, which is when I discovered the library in the mountain; then, Saturday, I meet Mathias and Lukas who help me sort out my thoughts, and Alfred comes back to me that same day; and then today. Sunday._ He blinked in realization. _I've been here for a week and I've already sold my soul to Alfred._ He calmed down considerably, and smiled. _That sounds wonderful, actually._ With a light laugh, he gaze at his reflection in the water, just like he had a few days ago. And he could most definitely agree that his appearance had approved.

For one, the bruise that had been around his eye had disappeared so much, Arthur couldn't remember if it had even been there. His throat looked smooth and clear of any bite wounds, and there was no longer an ugly scrape from Antonio's horn from the second trial on his chest. His hair was ruffled as usual, but there was a sort of freshness- a newness- to it that made it appear blonder than it was. His skin was impeccable and clean, like fine china, his halo and feathered wings looked to have been replaced as they set a right message of his appearance. And the look in his emerald eyes, that little spark they had now when he smiled: you could tell he was in love.

Arthur let a sigh out, and leaned back, gazing at the blood red shade labeled the sky. _I never thought being in love would be so easy._ His eyes accidentally wandered to the house atop the cliff in front of him, and he frowned. _And so hard._ The Brit's vision wavered back to the surface of the water again. "I wonder whot it's like to say those words to someone," he murmured to his reflection. "To be able to say them as if you say it every day, and then have the same in return." He blinked at the clone of himself on the water's surface. "But…whot if the feeling's not returned and is unrequited? How would that feel?" He bit his lip and glanced away. "There's no way he can't love me. He acts like he's crazy about me." He grinned and hummed, looking back at himself. "But at least I know I'm crazy about him. And that's a start. I love Alfred as I would lu-" He stopped in the middle of the word, eyes wide and mouth ajar as he translated what he had just uttered. "I-I-I…love Alfred." He gulped and smiled. "Yes…love him. Love Alfred." He laughed.

"Angel!"

"Ah!"

Arthur, wings spread and eyes wide, rotated around and into the air slightly before relaxing down, shrouding his lower half once again. His heart beat rapidly in alarm as he attempted to regain his breathing from the shock. Alfred gazed down at him in confusion, still half-dressed (thankfully, his lower half) and sat down in front of him. "I'm sorry, did I scare you, Delicate Rose?"

He shook his head with a flushed face. "I'm fine, Alfred. I just didn't hear you."

The American bent his head down in guilt. "I'm sorry. I woke up and saw you weren't there and got scared." A little bit more of the childish nature bled through his behavior, and the angel resisted pulling him into a hug. "I thought you had left me."

The Englishman smiled and chuckled, gaining the sight of the pale eyes that melted his heart into a large puddle. "I can assure you, there is no way I will ever be leaving you behind."

"Really?" The demon leaned forward so he was nearly falling into the water and his nose touched the other male's. "You mean that~?"

"O-of course I do." He softly smiled, shivering slightly as the warm breath of the other brushed against his lips. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have said it."

Alfred beamed at him. "That's wonderful~, Beautiful."

The Brit, red face and all moved forward slightly while keeping calm. _So close, his lips are so close-_

"Hey." He pulled away abruptly, unknowingly disappointing Arthur. "We had a fight, didn't we?"

"Oh." His expression died down immediately, wings drooping down and the glow he had naturally dimming. "Y-yes…we did." He didn't want to remember that right now, not when he was feeling so much in love and happy, whether or not his master knew of it or not. "You aren't…still mad about that, are you?"

Alfred blinked, giving a look of confusion to his face. "Why would I be mad?"

_Did he forget about it already?_ He cleared his throat; "Uhm, well…for starters, it was quite personal on your past, and…I'm sorry for ever asking such a question."

"No, it's my fault."

Arthur's eyes widened slightly. "Wh-whot?"

The Son of the Dark nodded. "I was mean to you and I don't even know why now. I felt like…," his eyes wavered to the side for a second in thought, but then wandered to his again, "I felt like I had betrayed the one I loved."

That was all it took for Arthur to crack a sob out, shut his eyes with a bowed head, and let the tears flow from his eyes. Alfred, probably oblivious to the situation and why it affected the angel so much, sat beside him and hugged him to his bare, tan chest, half-dressed and all.

Arthur wouldn't have had it any other way.

* * *

><p>After the Brit was able to calm down enough, Alfred finally removed his soaked bottom clothes and settled beside the other, keeping him in his lap while they quietly sat in the water. Arthur's arms had eventually healed over and returned back to clean, smooth skin, but he still remained by the Son of the Dark's side, not wanting anything, no matter what it was, to ruin the moment. He just let his hair under his halo be stroked until he was lightly snoozing against the chest as it radiated heat.<p>

Arthur dreamed a strange dream.

He found himself in a small yard, thankfully fully clothed, and in the presence of a small boy running around with an airplane in his hand. His hair was a beautiful golden color, eyes as blue as the sky, and his laugh loud and joyful for a child. The flying device zoomed around with him as he spun around in random patterns, lips and mouth making noises not unlike an actual plane.

"Vrrrrrrr! The skies are clear, no sign of the enemy, over! Vrrrrrr! Ahh! We're gonna be attacked! Prepare to fight, men! Don't hold back!" He cried out, and stopped to pick up a jet-black plane the same size as the first one, before he started up on running again, making even more noises as he acted the dogfight out. "Don't let him get away! Fire!" He continued the gun-shooting sounds, and wracked his wrists around in place to act like the enemy had fallen. "He's down, men! We did it!" He stood up and threw his hands in the air. "Whoohoo~~~!"

Arthur couldn't help but laugh at the sight of the young boy as he bowed in front of three teddy bears, several figures and the rest of an invisible audience. His clothes were ragged and stained with grime, as was his face, but his smile was irresistibly adorable nonetheless.

"There's nothing to fear if Alfred F. Jones, mighty hero is in town!" He stood with his fists on his hips and his legs spread where he stood, laughing as he switched from a mighty announcer voice to his original, young, cute voice. "Thank you, thank you! The Hero will always be here to help!"

The Brit raised his eyebrows in surprise. This was Alfred when he was younger? No, it couldn't be. Then again, who else would it be if he was having a dream like this when he was beside the demon in reality? _He does look a lot like the other Alfred in my last dream, just younger. And he has that same cowlick. It probably is him._ He frowned, however, when he thought a bit more. _But why would I be dreaming him as a child?_

"Alfred!" A shrill, woman's voice snapped from inside the nearby house. "Come inside and clean up for dinner!"

"Okay~!" He cheerfully called back, gathering his toys and running back inside. Curiosity made the Englishman follow after him.

As he walked through the door cautiously, he watched two parents sit down as their son, Alfred, finished washing his hands and hastily returned to sit in the empty seat beside his father's. Just as he did, the food was delivered to the plates and they commenced eating. And as they did, the hidden angel couldn't help but pry in the conversation.

"So, Alfred," his mother began, scooping more green beans onto her fork, "what happened in school?"

The young boy swallowed his mouthful of food he had already started to shovel down and grinned. "I got to play baseball today!" He chirped. "It was so cool~! I got a home run!"

His father smiled, but it was obvious the action was forced. "That's good, Al."

"And then we had a test in math and I got everything right! And then we drew the planets on a big white board but Patrick got sick and threw up on it! And then Emily gave Robert a kiss on the cheek today and he wiped it off! And then Mrs. Johnson, she said that we were gonna act out the Revolutionary War to the rest of the school! And then-"

"Alfred, did you get in trouble today in school?" The mother wondered.

"Yeah," he nodded, not hesitating at all.

"Is it true that you kissed someone?"

Again, Alfred nodded. "It was on the lips."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to see what it was like. Robert said it felt funny. And it did, it was weird."

Arthur couldn't help but cringe at the statement, despite Alfred only being so young. _It shouldn't make me feel bad but I can't help it. He's only a kid._

"Don't do it again," his father scolded his son. "You shouldn't go around kissing girls at this young of an age."

The little American furrowed his eyebrows in what seemed to be confusion. "I didn't kiss a girl. It was a boy."

His mother screamed, his father started to yell, and Alfred was suddenly shaking him awake.

* * *

><p>"Beautiful~…Lovely Angel~…Thornless Rose~…wake up."<p>

The angel opened his eyes suddenly in alarm, sitting up from where his head had been resting on the demon's shoulder. "Hm?" He glanced around in confusion. "Whot…"

Alfred laughed. "You fell asleep on me," he grinned, causing Arthur to suddenly remember of what had happened. "Were you tired, Beautiful?"

He gave a nod, blinking his eyes to keep them from closing, and started to stand. "Just a bit. I suppose I didn't sleep as well as I thought I had." A yawn cut him off from starting the next sentence, and stretched his wings and arms above his head as he did.

Alfred blinked as he watched the Brit, and then climbed out of the river after him. "Wanna go back, Gorgeous?" The shorter nodded and rubbed his eyes with his fist, causing the demon to laugh. The latter male pushed back a few stray strands of the blond blush to gaze into the emerald eyes, and he sighed in what seemed to be contentment. "So beautiful, Angel. So, so beautiful~."

Arthur laughed and looked down as the fingers started to graze his cheek. "I'm nothing special, Alfred."

"How could you say that, you're beautiful just how you are~." He nudged the other's chin up so that their eyes met. "If you weren't anything I wouldn't have taken you here with me." He took the angel's hand and placed it over the location of his heart. The Brit jumped slightly in surprise, and gazed into the pale eyes that smiled down at him with his lips. _Tha-thump, tha-thump, tha-thump._ Gently pulsing underneath skin and bone and muscle to touch his hand. "Do you feel that, Delicate Rose? You're the reason my heart beats. There's no one else in the whole world who can make me feel like this."

Arthur gulped down whatever emotional lump had lodged itself into his throat (seriously, what was up with these emotions lately?) and smiled. "Y-you…that has got to be the kindest thing anyone's ever said to me."

The taller took the other lone hand and pecked it, looking up at him as he did. "And you're the most beautiful thing that has ever graced time."

That not only made his own heart beat even faster, but Arthur Kirkland could swear he had fallen even deeper in love with Alfred.

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><p>"Alfred!"<p>

The voice cried out about a minute after the angel and demon had broken gazes. The two, now fully dressed, looked over in alarm at the demon that suddenly landed in front of them gracefully. Francis stretched his wings out to either side as he touched the ground again, but pulled them flush against his body to let Matthew settle on two feet beside him. The former visitor glared at Arthur harshly, and stepped close to the shorter angel.

"Because I love _mon cher ange_ so much, I am giving you one last chance," he sneered. "But if I 'ear you 'ave been ze cause of his tears once again, I am going to kill you."

Arthur gulped, and glanced behind him at Matthew, who looked nervous and was wringing his hands back and forth nervously. "Francis, _s'il vous plait_, I'm fine now," he assured him. "I don't hold anything against Arthur."

Francis looked as if he was going to comment further, but stopped, and placed a searing kiss upon his lover's lips. The Canadian gave a light cry in shock, but returned it gently before they pulled apart. The Frenchman simpered and smirked at the Briton. "_Et c'est comme ça que tu aimes quelqu'un._" He looked at Alfred, and motioned towards his house. The American looked back at his angel for a moment, but then followed the other demon. As soon as they were out of earshot, Matthew was hugging him from behind and pinning his arms to his side.

"Arthur, I am so sorry, I had to tell him!" He admitted as he buried his face into his shoulder. "I—I can't lie to him, I love him too much, and I know you may not have a clear understanding of loving a forbidden love, but I am really crazy in love about Francis, so I told him you had locked me in the library and he got so angry, that I…oh, _je suis tres, tres, tres désolé!_"

The English angel turned around slightly and rubbed in between his friend's drooped wings, back and forth, slowly and comfortingly. "It's alright, Matthew," he whispered at a loud enough volume so that he could be heard over the quiet weeping. "I understand perfectly."

The younger glanced up through his tears and sniffed. "Huh?"

Arthur pushed back a few stray locks of the caramel tresses, and smiled sheepishly with a light blush. "I'm in love with Alfred." His heart seemed to soar at the statement, as if he had said it to the mentioned demon himself. "And…I _have_ been for a very long time. I've just recently come to terms with it."

"S-so…;" he brushed away any stray marks of water off of his cheek. "You're not upset."

"To be honest," he weakly smiled, "I thought you'd be upset with _me_." Matthew looked away, and the Brit frowned. "Matthew, I really am sorry. I just had to get back to Alfred and tell him that I…that I'm in love with him. I wasn't really thinking about…anything else."

"Hey, when you're in love, nothing else really matters, right?" He managed a bright smile, and the other angel returned it.

"Of course."

"Good. Oh!" A look of remembrance and sadness crossed his face, and he pulled a slip of paper that had been attached to his belt. "Yao's letter."

Arthur gently took it in his own hands and began.

_Arthur, this is urgent. I need to talk to you about something, quickly aru. You cannot fall in love with your demon. You have to get away from him and hide aru. This letter will be quick because Kiku watches me write, but I cannot let your heart be sold to him so quickly! You have to stop before you get yourself in too much trouble aru! I believe your master and Kiku are meeting tomorrow to discuss important matters. You are to come with your demon aru. If you want us to get out alive, we're going to have to work together. We have to stop them from taking over our minds, our bodies and our hearts. And to do that, we must deny them, no matter how much we may want to be loved._

_I wish to see you tomorrow aru. Hopefully, your master will be willing enough to let you go with him. If not, I hope you have enough sense to stay away from any demonic sexual desires. Good luck aru._

_Your dear, troubled friend,_

_Yao_


	13. Promises

**Okay, so for some reason, when I posted this YESTERDAY, something came up and it was all like "Pffft I don't wanna update". So yeah. I', just reuploading this real quick.**

**Anyways, I own nothing. At all. Besides the plot. All characters/familiar material goes to Himaruya Hidekaz. As for now:**

**Enjoy~!**

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><p>Chapter 13:<p>

Promises

"Hey, Thornless Rose~! Can I ask you something?"

Arthur looked up from the rocking chair up at Alfred happily standing and swaying back and forth on the balls of his feet. It had been a few hours since Francis and Matthew had left them, hopefully getting home just when the bloodlust demons were released from their prison. By what the American demon had told him, they did this every first day of the week to search for anyone who was against their cause, sniffing the disobedient out with their amazing senses. Most of the time, he had been informed, they stayed away from the Mountain of the Three Fates, but the sounds the Brit heard from the ground floor of Hell were enough to nearly make him sick to his stomach.

He folded the letter that he had read for the umpteenth time up and set it in his lap. "Whot's wrong?" He asked the taller, gazing up at him in curiosity.

Alfred plopped down on the ground in front of his feet, grinning madly. "Kiku, my bestest friend- besides you, of course- asked me if I could come over tomorrow and discuss a few things with our boss," he replied.

"O-oh?" Arthur tried to force his heart to stop beating so hard, the very mention of his "bestest friend" making him react so strongly. _He's so perfect…oh, Alfred. So, so, perfect and flawless and Alfred._

"Mhm~! And he wanted to know if I could bring you, but I said I would have to ask him first. So, you wanna go, Beautiful~? It'll be okay, I promise. There's someone there who really would like to see you again~!"

Even though he already knew who it was, the Englishman raised his eyebrows in mocked shock. "Really? Who?"

He laughed like a child who had just been asked if he had broken something and knew he did. "I can't tell you~~~!"

Arthur pouted, playing along with his own lie. "That's not fair, how am I supposed to answer you if I don't even know who will be there tomorrow?"

The joyful sound was repeated. "I'm sorry, but I'll ruin the surprise if I tell you~!"

He stuck out his lower lip for emphasis. "You can't do that. There could be a bloodlust demon for all I know, waiting for me."

Alfred furrowed his eyebrows, face drained of joy, and the green-eyed male knew he had done something wrong. He bowed his head and shut his eyes with a sigh. _Why do I always end up saying the wrong things?_ He wondered to himself. _For all I know, I'm ruining my chances of having fall in love with me._ He slowly reopened his eyes, and whimpered quietly as he was soon gazing into jet-black irises. _Please, God, don't let him get angry at me._

"Are you saying you don't trust me?" He growled, leaning so close to him that the tips of their noses were touching. The Brit didn't answer him for a second, and Alfred moved closer to him, pushing the smaller into the chair. "Answer me, Angel."

He gulped down a lump of fear and hesitantly shook his head. "N-no…no, o-of course not," he whispered. "I would never say anything like that to you."

"Oh really now?" He moved closer to the angel, pressing his body against him so that his face was slightly nuzzled into his collarbone. Arthur held his breath as a tongue started to slowly snake its way up his thin, pale neck. "So why did you say what you said?"

"B-because…I-I'm afraid of those demons." His fists clenched slightly into the fabric of his robe, and he squeezed his eyes shut as another lick formed a path on his neck. "A-and…I-I don't want to be taken away again."

The demon chuckled a little less dark than what the Brit would have thought had come out, but was relieved to discover that there was now only a small amount of malice still inside the tone of the laugh, most of it having disappeared from his voice. "Don't you know Beautiful, that I am always going to be by your side to protect you?" Alfred moved to the shell of his ear and smoothly glided over it, his tongue dipping in and out of the curves and openings. The Brit shivered and sighed, moving forward to gain more contact.

"I-I-I know, b-but still…I-I don't want to be taken away from you ever again." It was a wonder how he had managed to keep that sentence so steady. The demon hummed, and then moved away, staring into emerald with now completely pale eyes and bringing his hand up to caress his face. Arthur managed a genuine smile, relieved that the torture had stopped and that he could gaze into that pair of beautiful eyes and that even more handsome face. _One day, Alfred. One day. I promise you and myself, that one day I will have the courage to look into your eyes and say 'I love you' without a single problem._

"You're so beautiful," he whispered. "And so much more…" With each word, he touched some (safe) part of the Brit's body, carefully smoothing his fingers over whatever was underneath. "Radiant…," hip, "lovely…," arm, "graceful…," shoulder, "breathtaking…," neck, "exquisite…," chin, "beauteous…," cheek, "stunning…," ear, tucking a strand of hair behind it, "glorious…," temple, "ravishing…," eyelids, both under and on top as they slid down on their own to hide his eyes, "delicate…," nose, "precious…," lips, tracing ever so gently over each as the emerald irises made themselves visible once again, "flawless…oh, so perfectly flawless, Angel. If I could…I would stay here…and hold you close to me," his hand intertwined with the other's, "and whisper every secret of the world into your ear. Yeah…," he smiled small, and leaned in close to him again, foreheads touching and lips so close that the blond could feel the breaths that puffed on to them, "I would like that…I would like that a whole lot, Angel. And I would like to kiss those lips one day." Arthur's heart skipped beats and doubled, beating against his chest roughly and causing a nearly inaudible gasp. "Some day soon, maybe, I promise. I'm going to take your cheeks," he gently placed his hands on either side of the china-like face, "and I'm going to lean in," he inclined his head and moved the blonde's so that their lips were nearly on top of the other, "and I'm going to give you the most romantic kiss to the person I love the most…more than anyone in all of Heaven and Hell."

His breath had been lost long ago, his mind off in a faraway place and away from reality, every inch of his skin and body and being reacting to the touches and words and everything and anything else that made Alfred Alfred. So wonderful and kind and perfect and _right there in front of his lips_, so close to just _kissing_ that pair of flesh—

"Hey, what do you want to eat?"

And then it was over. Just as quick as a blink, Alfred bounced off the angel and ruffled his bat wings out a bit before trotting into the kitchen, laughing joyously. The Englishman watched him with a gaping mouth, and blinked to get his mind around the problem. _Wh-wha…? I was so close…so close to kissing him…and he moved away from me. Just as I was ready, he moved away from me!_ Arthur frowned as his gaze focused on his lap. _He must have a good reason, though…like he's too nervous, or, he believes I don't love him back. Should I make it more obvious for him, or just let myself hide my feelings again from him?_ He took a deep breath, calming his nerves down slightly, and looked over into the small kitchen, where the demon was whistling and humming, preparing all sorts of things and getting out the fire pit holder, setting it in the middle of the floor. He caught the angel staring at him, and giggled childishly at the other.

"Come on over, Thornless Rose~! You need to eat, too~! _Hahahahaha~!_"

The angel fidgeted with his fingers for a second before standing and striding over to him, leaving the letter tucked against his body by the sash of rope around his waist. _I think I'll just make the best of my time with him, show him a little bit that I truly care about him. But that little bit has grown into something more than that. Something bigger and more important and more complicated. But one day, it will be perfect. And one day, I'll be able to say that we are both happy where we are. And that's besides each other._

* * *

><p>The two huddled up by the fire made in the metal pit that sat in the middle of the kitchen. The labeled night had grown uncomfortably cold, causing Alfred to lend the plaid, red blanket he had given the shivering Brit sipping on a vegetable-filled soup. They sat side by side, the fire giving them some warmth as the blond tried not to listen to the noises outside. The Brit shivered inside the covering around his shoulders and huddled in on himself a bit more.<p>

"Are you alright, Dainty Rose?"

Alfred moved himself closer to the angel, taking his hand delicately. The angel gave a small smile down at their fingers touching and then looked back at the taller. "Quite," he answered, giving a small yawn as he rested his head against the demon's body. The demon looked down at him and grinned, but their expressions changed when a lone howl ripped through the air, startling the two and causing them to gaze at the window to outside. The cry lasted for a long while before finally dying down through vicious snarls and growls. The blond gawked back up at the other male. "Whot was that?"

The American gaze a weak smile and pulled the other closer to him, enveloping his leather bat wings around the other and pulling him flush against his body. "The Harvesters found new betrayers, that's all. There's nothing to be afraid about, don't worry." Another, loud yowl sounded off again, and Alfred gave a strangled cry before tugging Arthur close enough for him to hear his heartbeat.

The Englishman blinked in confusion, but then lightly smiled. _He can be such a child sometimes. It's endearing._ "Alfred, there's nothing to be afraid about. You have me right here, right?"

He whimpered into the shorter male's hair. "They're gonna take me away. They're gonna take me away from you and then I'll never see you again. They're gonna hurt me and then I won't ever see you again."

His heart stopped. Wh…what was that? He didn't really mean that, did he? The Harvesters wouldn't take him away…would they? "Alfred? Wh-whot do you mean?"

Pale eyes darted to stare into his emerald pair, and Arthur could see the worry and anxiety drowning the demon mercilessly. "I promise you, my Thornless Rose, my Dainty Rose, my Beautiful, my Gorgeous, my Angel, my Arthur," the name was used carefully and quietly, delicately that caused his heart to flutter in his abdomen, "I am going to do anything to protect you from them no matter what it takes." He leaned forward slightly, pressing their foreheads against one another. "I promise. I will risk anything for your safety."

Arthur gulped down a small lump of fear that he found growing bigger and bigger. "Th-thank you. Thank you so much, Alfred."

The only thing he could remember was a kiss to the forehead, an embrace around each other, and the taller slipping him half-asleep into the only bed. And that same night, Arthur dreamed of Alfred for the fourth time.

* * *

><p>It started out very strange, for some reason. Instead of finding himself somewhere, he was stirred awake by something shaking him, and he opened his eyes groggily to look up at whoever had disturbed him.<p>

Alfred.

His bare chest exposed to the "night" air, his body was rigid and his eyes were not wavering once from where they gazed out the window. His tail was poised high in the air, nearly meeting the height of his neck, and his wings were outstretched, as if prepared for flight. Arthur couldn't help but manage a smile at him, and he reached up to him, cupping his cheek with one hand. The demon jumped slightly in surprise at the contact, and looked down at the angel, before giving a soft beam back at him. The Brit leaned up and captured his lips, urging the taller to do the same and relax. Reality Arthur sighed, and let the dream commence. _This is…utterly perfect. Even though I can't say how much I love him to his face, this is just…perfect, _he sighed as the two broke apart carefully, still hovering over each other and pressing their mouths together every now and then.

"Whot's wrong, luv?" The blond asked quietly, breathing out contently as the warm lips ghosted over his own.

"I heard something outside," he whispered, pressing another kiss to his lover's neck. Arthur sighed.

"Maybe it was just the wind." This time, he positioned two more kisses along his face, and then down his neck once. "You're just overreacting, poppet."

Alfred smiled at the nickname, and captured his mouth into another kiss. The English angel pulled him down with him and gave a small moan as his neck was soon abused with hot pecks and lengthy licks, causing him to writhe up in want. Reality Arthur would have blushed at the scene and the sudden heated kisses, but it ended suddenly with Alfred being tugged off him.

"NO!" He leaped forward (despite his naked state) and grabbed at the nearest demon on his lover, but was shoved away by the other Sons of the Dark. "LEAVE HIM ALONE, HE'S DONE NOTHING!" He sobbed out, trying to prevent the tears from falling any more than they had. The American demon grunted as he tried to push himself away but didn't succeed in freeing himself.

One of the Harvesters stood in front of Arthur, and he instantly recognized him from the many times he had been terrorized. Both versions of the angel whimpered as he was stared down. "Well, Feathers," he growled in what sounded like a bit of a chuckle. "We meet again, at last."

"Leave him alone, he's done nothing," he repeated in a quieter, calmer voice. The demon rubbed a clawed finger beneath the guardian's chin and hummed in thought. "You don't have the bloody right to take him away from me."

"As Harvesters, we have the ability to do whatever our master asks of us." Sadık stroked under Arthur's chin. "And your lover has done a serious crime to our cause."

He moved away from the hand, causing a tsk to arise. "And who has the right to say that?"

He let the talons trail over the other's cheek hauntingly. "Our boss."

"Bullshit." Reality Arthur was shocked at the language he used. _But…angels aren't allowed to curse. Why would I disobey orders?_ The Harvesters were surprised to hear the curse as well, and Dream Arthur glared even harder at them. "You don't always have to follow the rules, I've learned that. Love between an Angel and Demon. Angels cursing. Letting one demon off the hook because he's in love. They're all possible. You just have to make them that way."

"Dat is not why we are reprimanding him," a tall demon Reality Arthur didn't know, but Dream Arthur recognized as Ivan, commented with a creepy smile on his face. His upper limbs held up the struggling Alfred a few feet above the ground under his arms. "A demon is allowed to love anything of its choice, but not allowed to sell his whole existence to the love. Dat is what Alfred has done, _da_?"

"Why does it matter?" Alfred snarled, kicking his legs to get them back on the ground. "You can't stop me from loving him." Both versions of Arthur smiled, and the American returned the gesture. "I can't help it if he's my world."

Ivan smiled, sending a shiver down the angel's back. "You will be taken, den."

"NO!" Arthur once again pounced up and this time was successful as they started to take Alfred away, the Brit managing to wrap his arms around his waist. "YOU CAN'T TAKE HIM!"

Several of the demons tried to pull him off the body, digging their claws into his side to tug him off, but he held on and sobbed as the blood poured down his hips and legs and his only love was unable to hold on to him. The American struggled to hold him up, was crying just as hard as the Turkish demon lifted the Brit up and threw him to the floor, lodging a dagger into his wings while doing so. Both Reality and Dream Arthur shrieked at the pain that controlled their nerves and feathered wings, weeping at the utter agony of it. The latter version watched, tears still marking his face, and let the darkness cover him while Arthur of reality woke up to his body in the air and his side bleeding profusely.

* * *

><p>Alfred's voice was heard but no words could be made out over Arthur's screams as the Harvesters, who had gotten into the house, held him up at each of his limbs and started to carry him away. The American was thrashing around and screaming, snarling like a rabid animal, but a long, thin chain that held a brace around his neck kept him from lunging forward at the others. The chain had been inserted into the wall somehow, and there was another link leading to his wrists, which had been pulled behind him. He growled and spit at the Harvesters, thrashing despite his restraints and attempting to use his legs to try and get closer.<p>

Arthur, meanwhile, was sobbing, and soon found the chill of the atmosphere around him. He kicked his legs in the air to aim at something, but that was soon a failure when incredible twinges stung his nerves and stopped him. His wings were wildly flapping, but he halted when a hand fell onto his chest and spread out. He recognized the demon as Ivan, the one he had seen in his dreams, and shivered at the creepy grin he received at his fear. "Oh~ so dis is de Pretty Angel, _da_?" He wondered, pushing strands of hair past the angel's ear, cries mere sniffles and rapid tears. "I dink I shall take him as my own. Don't you?" He looked up at the others, and received snickers in response. He laughed like a child who had just been promised time to play, and scooped the trembling Englishman into his arms. "My name is Ivan. You are very beautiful, and I will take good care of you, _da_?"

The Brit gulped and panted, eyes wide. The demon's Russian accent frightened him to his very core, and he reeked of vodka: his breath, his clothes, and that mixed in with Hell's scent made him want to vomit. He remained quiet for not a minute, when the Russian spread his wings out, as if ready to fly, and Arthur started screaming loudly. "NO NO NO!" He shrieked, pushing against the other's chest to pry himself away. "Leave me alone!" More tears accompanied the clear traces he had left from his previous crying, and at this point he didn't even care anymore.

Ivan looked puzzled for a minute. "You look tired." His frightening smile returned quickly, however. "No worries, I shall take care of dat, _da_?"

"NO!" He pounded his fist against the body once more, and the Russian frowned. "Let me down!"

"You're mine now. I can't let you go!"

Arthur breathed heavily as the demon tried to get into the air again, and curled his hand back. "FUCK OFF!" Before he could stop himself, he flew his fist into the other's face, causing his cheek to turn away, the arms to drop him on the ground, and for him to scramble to his feet and rush back to the house, locking the door and barricading it with the spilled-over fire pit holder, which was big enough to go under the doorknob and stop it from being opened. When he managed to steady it, he leaned against the wood and panted, realizing what he had just said and done. He choked out a sob, and slid down to the floor in distress, letting the pent-up emotions out in quiet sobs.

"Thornless Rose?"

The one comment, the one he loved most out of anything he had ever heard, was the cause of him looking over and crying even harder than before. "A-A-Alfred!" His voice cracked, and he wiped at the bottom of his eyes, sniffing. "W-w-why did they come here? W-why did they w-want m-me?"

The American demon, from where he could see, had thin paths of water down his face from his eyes to his cheeks. His voice sounded tired and weak and needy, and the words stabbed Arthur harshly in the heart. "J-just come over here…p-please? I-I need to hug you."

Arthur couldn't have moved faster.

He didn't know what Alfred thought. He had an idea of what the other felt of him, and he knew he himself was madly in love. And he knew, as he unlatched the locks on the American's restraints, as they held each other and sobbed out their fears and anguish, as they promised to never leave the other, as they fell asleep with the other in his embrace, Arthur knew it without it ever being said.

They were in love.


	14. Visit

**Okay, sooo first things first, so sorry for those who alerted and probably got like...636296456 alerts that I had a new chapter of A&D up and/or had alreadty read the first story and then saw "Hey, WTF, it uploaded again". Because what I found strange was after one day of posting the third chapter, I had what, four, five reviews already? Anyways, I saw that I had 4/5 reviews, already two favorites since I posted the chapter, but no hits. Which is weird, so I was like Huh. That's really weird. So I took the chapter down, tried to reupload it twice (the first time, FF was like Derrrr, can't upload ASFGHJ and I wanted to axe its face off) but then it was fine and I was like yay :3**

**Okay, so besides that, I loved your reactions from last chapter :D I did, the first two I got were like "the hell is this?" and I was like Yeeeah, about thaaaat... XD So, yeah. Sorry for the confusion. You will learn about who the Harvesters are and what they do soon. Probably next chapter, because I got an AMAZING plot for next chapter that I'm not telling anyone so there! XPPPP Naah, I'm sorry. Here: it involves the Harvesters, Alfred, Iggy in a closet, and Ivan :3 That's all I'm saying.**

**For now, I FINALLY ADDED YAO! :D Yaaaaay~! ^-^ I've been waiting for this for so long, you have no clue! Although I _did_ have a bit of writer's block, the kind when you're like ZOMG THIS IS THE BEST IDEA EVA! but in reality, you just sit there with the idea but have no clue how to write it with a face like this ;A; That was pretty much my face if it wasn't textified (not a word). No joke, I would write like...three hundred words one day, and then I'd go listen to Billy Joel (by the way, "Just the Way You Are" and "And So It Goes" are perfect songs when in need :D) and played spider solitaire on my laptop. And then I realized what to put in this chapter and that people are gonna be like WTF because Nichu is such an unpopular ship and...I don't know many people who adore it DX They need more love! But yeah, I'm probably gonna get some hate because of my rant and because of the overload of NiChu. But IDGAD ^-^**

**I mean, this is what I've seen mixed with my opinion, but some people call NiChu incest. And I saw this and I got really POed because if you can ship Spamano and USUK perfectly and so easily, then you can not call NiChu incest. Like, for instance, there's an author here who wrote really good not-exactly-NiChu and GerIta and shipped Spamano too, and I was just like ASDFGHJKL LUVVVV but then I saw on her profile that she didn't ship USUK but FrUK and Americest, and the reason WHY is because England raised America and it's too weird because their age span is decades apart and stuff. Meanwhile, you ship Spamano- who _clearly _we have seen that Antonio was tortured with his little _tomate_ for YEARS. Just...why? I mean, Romano and Spain are pretty far apart, but it's perfectly okay because they can't BE with each other? WTF? I mean, c'mon! And plus, Americest? I mean...why? Why are there cest pairings? They're gross! w I mean, you like what you like, I know, but still. Sometimes, the reason WHY you hate a pairing is just too damn ridiculous. Then again...me and FrUK. I mean, I hate RoChu because China is creeped out by Russia and all, so I don't see them working together. But FrUK is another story. **

**Maybe I should just shut my mouth now, because I'm ranting and I have hiccups. Plus, no one reads A/Ns, so why am I even writing this? XD IDEK**

**So! I own nothing but the plot. And Yao's back story. Hidekaz Himaruya owns the characters. Andddd sorry for the lame Chinese I threw in. IDEK :shot:**

**So nowwww: Enjoy~!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 14:<p>

Visit

It was no question at all that Arthur would be going with Alfred in the morning. There was no doubt about it, and they didn't talk much about the night's events. They sat together on the edge's cliff as one drank homemade tea, the leaves from the Surface and the water from the lake below, and the other sipped what he could get as close to coffee, sitting side by side. Their hands were barely touching, but their fingertips brushed over the other's now and again as they watched the sky brighten, signaling as close to day as it could get in Hell.

Arthur was mentally scarred by both his dream and what had happened to him, and he felt that he hadn't been that scared since the London Blitz. What had occurred was nothing more than Harvesters breaking into the house and trying to kidnap him. He didn't know why, and he didn't want to know why. He could still smell the vodka on him from that Russian demon, and he knew Alfred has as well, for the smell was horrid and too obvious that he had been chest-close to him. He shivered slightly, recalling the way it had felt to be held by him. He had already washed and cleaned his body more than enough times in the lake, but he could still feel the holds on his limbs, the claws in his side, the burning feel of not having Alfred by his side—

Beside him, there was a bit of shuffling before he found his shoulder touching the other's. Alfred glanced down at him, and managed a weak smile. "You looked afraid," he whispered. Arthur blinked in shock, and bit his lip to silence his self from voicing his thoughts. "I'm so sorry I couldn't help you, Arthur. I wanted to, but…they held me back before I could do much."

At the usage of his "proper" name, his cheeks turned a dim red and he forced his gaze down into his lap. _It sounds so perfect,_ he thought to himself. _Just to hear him say it. Just to hear him __**speak**__ is enough for me. And yet he still doesn't know I love him._

Arthur still hadn't told Alfred how he felt. And he was sure the demon was either completely clueless or just a bit shy when it came to his feelings.

"I don't blame you for anything," he mumbled back to him, and he could even hear in his own voice what the other had been worried about. There was a slight tremor in the tone. He bet his very soul had "fright" written all over it.

"Arthur…," he grabbed his hand gently and placed a peck on the fingers. "I promise no matter what happens, I'm always going to protect you, okay?" He tried to be a bit more optimistic, that the Brit could tell just by the way he slightly forced his mouth to raise in a smile. "I'll be your hero, okay?"

The Englishman blushed slightly, and gave a small, grateful grin in response to him. "I've always wanted to have a hero."

Alfred laughed, washing his uneasiness away with one sound of joy. "And I always wanted to be one, Beautiful."

The two didn't leave too long after that, and quickly made their way to the bottom of the mountain, Arthur contently taking the offer of being held in his arms. He didn't mind; he was still traumatized and could barely move his right wing. But his body accepted the hold as if they were made to match, and he let Alfred lead them to Kiku's. Plus, he was also very, very _extremely_ close to him, so much that the angel could feel the heart beating against the palm of his hand. _Tha-thump, tha-thump, tha-thump._ He smiled softly to himself. _It only beats for me, Alfred. And mine only beats for you._

The two arrived at the other demon's about five minutes later, and the American demon landed gently on the ground beside a large, bare tree covered in branches, the house partially made inside the mountain. One half stuck out, and the other part was most likely from a leftover small grove. Arthur found himself rather impressed at the sight of the house. _They're rather well off, aren't they? And to think not many angels know about how they really live._ Standing close to Alfred, the two of them moved up to the door, and Alfred raised a hand to knock, but stopped, and looked over at the angel with a soft smile. Arthur glanced up at him and his cheeks flushed ever so slightly.

"Yes…?" He stared up at him, and the American demon's lips widened upwards even more.

"Just admiring you, is all," he admitted, and leaned over to place a gentle kiss on the top of his head. "I want you to know I'm always going to be by your side, alright?"

The Brit couldn't stop the beam that overcame his features and laughed quietly. "Thank you very much for that encouragement."

"Anything for my Angel~." He turned back and knocked on the door. "Kiku~! Guess who's here~!"

A few seconds later, the door opened, and the demon glanced at them through hazy eyes. "_Nani…?_" He asked in a quiet voice, jet-black bangs falling in his face. Unlike the others, the color seemed natural, and Arthur had to admit, it went quite nice with how the hair was cut. A hand rubbed at his eyes, skin pale and teeth barely seen from his too light lips, their color a dull pink. But nonetheless, Kiku appeared intimidating and not a threat at the same time. Maybe he could go either way. Arthur remembered what the demon did to both him and Yao, and what had just been respect dwindled down to not even the size of a crumb. The demon, recognizing the other demon, bowed low, and the American did the same, giggling.

"No need to be so formal, dude~! We know each other enough!"

"My aporogies," he stated in a rather thick Asian accent, probably Japanese, and stepped aside to allow the two entrance. "Eh, I'm afraid I haven't met your friend yet." The way he stated "friend" made it sound like he had taken a bitter poison as he said the word.

"Oh, you mean Beautiful?" He grinned as he slipped his shoes off, and turned back around to grip the other's hand. "This is my Gorgeous Delicate Rose~! My Pretty Angel~!" He nuzzled his nose into Arthur's blushing cheek. The latter pushed on his chest lightly, heart thumping so loud in his chest, he bet they could hear its thuds. _Tha-thump-tha-thump-tha-thump—_rapidly and repeatedly. Alfred moved away and pecked a kiss just behind his ear, causing a shiver to chase down the English male's spin.

Kiku didn't look too impressed, and only looked him up and down. "Hm…I see. He doesn't rook very speciar. Wat does he do?"

The short angel huffed, offended, but Alfred grinned with closed eyes. "He's the bestest friend I could ask for~! What more is there to want?"

"Hm…" He seemed to wish to get off the subject quickly, and motioned toward the back of the house, where the taller happily trotted to. Kiku gave a final glare at the English angel. "If you wourd rike, Yao is outside waiting." He motioned toward a room that most likely led to the outside of the house where the aforementioned male was, and the Japanese demon examined him one last time before following Alfred calmly. Arthur frowned and watched him leave, thinking that was a bit strange, and then focused back on the door he had to enter, letting out a deep sigh. _Now or never, Arthur. It's now or never._

* * *

><p>Without any hesitation, the Briton opened the wooden door leading to the area, and stepped out quietly, shivering at the chilly air that had passed over. The spot wasn't too big or too small, and had a small bench just to the right underneath the tall, bare-branched tree. He immediately recognized the angel seated on the stone seat, but nearly cried out in shock at what he saw.<p>

Yao had always looked as if he was perfect. Everything about him to anyone else was unspoiled, impeccable, from his posture to his hair that was kept intact ever so nicely to the position of the feathers on his wings. To anyone else but himself, he was flawless. Whenever one of the watched humans would comment on his looks, he'd laugh lightly and always thank them politely, even though he never believed it himself. However, now, the Chinese angel's wings were nearly clipped gone, the few that were hanging on cut short and bloodily. His hair, trailing out of his ponytail in many different places, was caked in what looked to be dried blood; his legs were curled to his chest, judging by his position on the bench. And just like he had said, his halo was cracked and broken far more than he had believed.

Arthur, not one to waste another minute watching his close friend, opened his mouth slightly. "Y-Yao," he whispered, quiet yet loud for him to hear.

The Chines angel whipped around, and gasped. "Arthur…," he mumbled, his accent still as fresh and memorable than when he had last heard it. His eyes were as golden as ever, and besides a cut on his right cheek his skin still appeared unblemished, like fine china. He stood up to face the Englishman properly, examining the other angel with frantic eyes, as if he was trying to memorize him for his own good. "You can't be real aru…"

"I can say the same about you." He tried to give a reassuring smile, but that quickly disappeared. They stood in shock for a few more seconds, before Yao pulled the blond closed, smashed his face into his shoulder and sobbed into it, the sound ringing out around the whole area. The Brit nearly jumped at the sounds, but stopped himself and instead patted his back, avoiding any scars he might have. He had no idea _why_ he was crying like this, what was able to bring down the usually happy, joyful, panda/cute-things-lover Chinese former chef and present angel. And who would want to? Yao could probably never kill a spider or giant insect, even if it was trying to eat him.

"It's terrible aru," he croaked out after calming down enough to speak, and sniffed sadly. "I-I thought I was never going to see him again, and then he comes to take me back just because he can and he knows. He knows after all these years." He let out a short sob, but then inhaled it back inside. "H-he wants me to submit to him but I don't want to aru."

Arthur was only able to follow half of that.

"I'm sorry, Yao, but…whot were you just saying?" He wondered quietly as they separated. The dark-haired angel rubbed at his eyes as he tried to compose himself.

"K-Kiku aru." He sniffled again and sat back down on the bench. "Sit down, Arthur. I need to tell you something."

Yao was seen as one of the wisest angels to ever reside in Heaven. His intelligence of the world, past and present, was incredible, that everyone in their sector in the clouds believed him to be over four thousand years old. No one, however, knew when and how he had gotten there. There were rumors, of course, and whenever the question was brought to Yao, he would shiver and look away and answer with, "I don't like to talk about it aru. I'd rather you not ask me." It was a complete debate topic on what time period he had come from, the only thing discussed in the Heavens that was close to gossip.

But now, there was something Yao wanted to talk about, something that seemed important and overdue to be known, judging by the look the Asian was giving the Brit. His eyes trembled from the mental exhaustion, and it took him a few minutes- ten at the least- until he opened his mouth with a sigh and shaking words.

"I met Kiku in the late nineteen twenties, sometime before the Second World War," he started, and instantly, Arthur's eyes widened and his head leaned forward. The injured angel let a quiet sob out. "I know, I know, I'm sorry aru!" He shook his head and forced his fingers to rub over his eyes. His voice cracked a bit as he spoke. "I've known him for years, I'm sorry!"

"How did you…I mean, why…whot…" His words were a jumble, but when Yao looked up with watered eyes that refused to leak, he stopped. This was a time to listen, not to judge.

"At the time, to find a job was really hard because of the depression aru. Especially where I lived, my country already had enough problems to deal with, we didn't need more. So, I decided to live in Hong Kong for a while, try and find a job to help us, and I managed to find a small restaurant that needed a cook aru." He quickly wiped his wrist under his nose, sniffling. "It wasn't too bad, I already knew nearly everything my _Mǔqīn_ had taught me. My cousin, Xiang, let me stay with him for a while aru. Said how- he could let me stay with him until the mess let up. The government in China was getting a bit out of control aru. The Nationalists were struggling, everything was a mess, and there was a rumor going around about some German trying to take over the world aru. But then…" He sighed, and bowed his head, but the Englishman could still see the tears dropping down, "I-I met a kind student who said he had ran away from Japan because he didn't approve of the military's plans."

"And that wos Kiku, I assume?" He didn't even need to have a nod of the head and a quiet "Mmhm" from his friend. He already knew that was who he was referring to.

"Kiku was kind to me, the first day we met aru. He had come in for a bite to eat, I remembered him so well because I heard him struggle with the Cantonese." He bit his lip, struggling not to smile. "It was so cute, the way he pronounced the words, the way he stumbled over them, and I laughed. And he looked over at me and…" This time, he raised his head slightly to smile, "he was the most handsome person I'd ever seen."

Arthur found himself lost for words in slight surprise. So even before his death- which wasn't very far away from his, give or take a few years- he had "disobeyed" the rules by falling in love with another male. "Did you…well…did you care?"

Yao chuckled, mood a bit lighter than before, and toyed with the hem of his robe. "No…not really aru. I was only twenty-five, young, in love. And when you're in love, who cares about the world, right aru?"

A light blush came to his cheeks. "Right… How did Kiku feel about you?"

"Well…I know Kiku loved me back, because once our eyes met, he didn't look away. Burned some rice while watching him aru." He laughed, eyes looking somewhere else, probably recalling the memory. "And by the end of the day, I had a name and a place and time when we would meet agai."

The English angel raised his eyebrows. "You hadn't even met him properly and you were already planning on seeing him again?"

Gold eyes gazed at him out of the corner of his eyes. "Again: when you're in love, who cares about the world aru?"

"But…whot did you do when you met again?"

The Chinese male's cheeks glowed scarlet, and he looked away. "Well, besides talking in the Japanese that I had learned a few years before that, we, um…well, w-we kissed a couple times."

"Yes…?"

"A-and, um…w-well…w-w-we…d-did other stuff."

"O-oh…" Arthur gulped and gave a weak smile, cheeks blooming red. "Y-you don't have to explain anymore."

Yao seemed relieved and breathed out a sigh. "_Xiéxié_."

The blond cleared his throat and glanced away shyly. _Doing…_that_ with a male…well, I never would have thought Yao to do so. I…is Alfred…w-willing to do the same for me?_ He bit on his lower lip hard to stop the train of thought. _Stop it, bloody stop it._

"The next day, the two of us, we…we ran away from Hong Kong and made it up north towards Shanghai," he began again, pulling the smaller out of his daydream. This time, there was a new emotion in his eyes and portrayed on his face, but the Briton could barely recognize it. "But by then…the Japanese army had already taken over a-and…th-they had stopped us from going any further." He gulped, and any resistance to hold back the tears was broken, and he let them slide down his cheeks, one by one. "They—they had recognized Kiku, they…knew him, a-and…they insulted me right there where they had stopped us aru. Right in front of me…I didn't say anything, and neither did Kiku, but…one of them raised a gun, a-and Kiku knew what they were doing and he tried to h-help me but they threw him to the ground and they shot at me and-" Before he could finish he quietly covered his eyes and sobbed into them. Arthur, upon instinct and like what the other had done for him so many times before, took him into his embrace and rubbed his back to calm him, silent so he could let the older pour his emotions out.

When Yao finally took a breath and was reduced to sniffles, the Englishman placed a kiss to his forehead, just like the former would do when he would comfort him and the children he had looked after, and gazed down at him, smiling gently. The long-haired angel sniffed as he wiped at his cheeks, smearing the water along their smooth surfaces.

"I'm sorry I'm like this aru," he sniffled, and ran his hands along his upper arms as if to hug himself. "I-I'm just confused right now."

Arthur didn't answer him out of respect; he had learned another side to his friend, and didn't want to startle him too much. And although he wanted to ask what was wrong, wanted to know what was bothering him, he held his tongue back.

Yao gazed up at him, golden eyes so clear yet so lost and innocent. He looked like a lost child, not a twenty-five-year-old Chinese angel that loved pandas and cooking. "H-have you ever thought about what it would be like to love your demon aru?" He asked in a nearly silent voice. The blond couldn't help but raise both eyebrows and blush, which was taken as a positive response. "I'm only asking because, well…w-when I first woke up here and saw Kiku, I-I got…I got hopeful again. Like…he would kiss me and make everything better again aru. But…then I saw he had horns, a-and a pair of bat wings, and I knew…w-what we had before our deaths was not going to work out this time."

"Why's that?" The Briton inquired, a faint tower of suspicion rising up inside of him. He didn't mind breaking his wall of silence right now, and had no intention on fixing it.

He looked at the other as if he had gone insane. "Why? Arthur, please don't tell me _you_ forgot the rules aru! 'An angel, no matter what rank he or she has, may never make any sort of contact with a demon no matter what unless defending your homelands.'"

"No, I didn't forget that." His stomach twisted in uneasiness, and he swallowed the lump of nervousness that was twirling in his throat. "I-it's just that…well, I've already violated that rule."

The older angel's eyes could never have widened that far and that much until now. "Y-you did _w-what?_"

Arthur felt a slight anger in him rise, like he was furious at his dear friend, but eased it back down. _He doesn't understand what it feels like to be in a forbidden love. _"I-I fell in love with Alfred. My demon. M-my…l-love, or poppet or…o-or dearest." He smiled at the pet names he had given. "I'm in love with Alfred, and you can't stop that."

His hands flew up to cover his ears. "Stop talking aru!"

"And by the looks of it, I would say you're in deep for Kiku, am I right?"

At first, he only whimpered out an answer, eyes tightly screwed shut tightly. But the younger wouldn't have any of that, and forced him to face him.

"Am I right, Yao?"

"YES! YES, I AM, JUST LEAVE ME ALONE ARU!"

The blond silenced himself rather quickly at the outburst, and instead watched him panic and lean over as if he was going to hurl.

"I am, I still am, I always was! I always loved him no matter what aru! E-even when I saw he had been forced into the Japanese Imperial army and had started to follow their ways, even when he was burned by the bombs that were dropped on Japan by the Americans! Even then I loved him with all my heart and everything of me!" His wings crowded against him, not long or strong enough to wrap around him to give him the proper comfort he deserved right about now. Arthur was silent as well, guilt rolling around inside him, telling him how ridiculous he had sounded for interrogating his friend so harshly. He sat quietly while the other silently started to get calm, and looked up at him sheepishly.

"I'm sorry I pushed you," he apologized to his friend, but the latter only shook his head.

"I should be sorry," Yao whispered back. "I was the one who had hoped I could have something with him again aru."

Arthur shook his head with a smile and a chuckle. "No one means to fall in love." The Chinese male glanced over at him, curiosity in his gold eyes. "I've learnt, over the pass few days, that love is a wonderful accident caused by your heart because it wants another person to love."

The older stared and blinked at him for a second, and any gloom that had been in the mood was instantly washed away with a joyous laugh. "You sound so _old_ aru!"

The Brit mimicked his sound with a grin. He hadn't felt this…happy since he had gotten here. "I'm only two years younger than you are."

"But you're wiser than me aru." He smiled at him with his friendly beam and the younger simpered. "You are aru!"

"I am not, and you know it!"

The two laughed again, but this time, when they had quieted down, the darker-haired angel hugged his other friend tightly. "_Xiéxié_ _aru_."

Arthur returned the embrace with just as much emotion but less strength so as not to harm his close friend. "_Bùyòng xiè, qīn'ài de péngyǒu._"

Just as soon as the moment was there, it was gone as a rough force dragged the Englishman back and into a warm pair of arms and a jittery voice; "Beautiful I'm so so so sorry but we have to go _now_!"

Alfred.

In alarm, the Briton's hands wove up to grab around the demon's neck, and a yelp escaped his lips. "A-Alfred, be caref_ah!_"

Once more, he was lifted as the American demon attempted to fix his position in the pair of leather arms. And again, the Son of the Dark apologized, stumbling over words as he stretched his wings out on either side of him, prepared for flight, and lifted a few feet above the ground in a matter of one second. Arthur tried to turn around to call out to Yao, but before he could realize it, they were already too far away for anything to be heard or called out.


	15. Warning

**Heeeey, guess what! I'm going to torture you guys a bit more! :D ****Kesesesese! XD**

**Naaaah, but seriously: this chapter provides torture...To _you_ guys, at least. Not Arthur. Well, not really. Well...yeah, a bit.**

**...**

**Okay, a lot. And you know how I said something about Iggy in a closet? Yeah, I remembered something: Alfred's house doesn't have a closet XD So, really, it's Iggy and a bed...Yeahhhh XD**

**Okayyyy, so! I realized just now how long my rant was last chapter and was like D8 (shocked face btw) because I didn't know I had talked that much. Then again, I'm Italian~ Veeee PASTAAAAAA XD Ahhh no joke, my Italy impression is amazing. Even though my mom is like "You're a nerd" and I'm like SO? DX But my mom's awesome because she listens to my ****rants about Hetalia. Heh, I remember this one time I was explaining France and I said how he went naked in the Olympics and she was like "...he went _naked_?" And I said "Ma, it's France, he's like the top perv. Plus, there was a leaf over his vital regions" XD She still thinks I'm nuts! And then I was watching the Revolutionary war episodes (17 and 20 ;A;) and I was sobbing uncontrollably and my sister comes in the room and is just like "o_O...are you okay...?" And I'm like OHMYGAWD THIS COUPLE DOES SO MUCH TO MEEEE DX and then she sees what I'm watching and is like You are such a loser! Get a life! and then she left. And _then_, before I went to bed last night, I got Volume 1 (manga) of Hetalia from my library and I accidentally went to the page where England knocks the gun out of his hand and I broke apart, I was like "OH MY GODDDDDD DX WHYYYYYY" and just started crying and whispering "They're so beautiful".**

**Man, I should really learn to shut my mouth. I'm going off on random tangits. XD But SOME of you read 'em, right~?**

**:crickets:**

**Meh... XD Jk, jk~ I love my reviewers, old and new. I mean, that's why I reply to nearly all of your reviews with my multilanguage subjects ^w^ Speaking of multilanguage, the Chinese last chapter is: thank you (_Xiéxié_) and you're welcome dear friend (_Bùyòng xiè, qīn'ài de péngyǒu_). I just remembered that Russia speaks Russian in this like...twice, but it's simple words. You should figure it out AKA Lady Skarlett just wants to play spider solitaire because she has no life XD Okay, okay, so!**

**I own nothing here. Besides the plot. Hidekaz Himaruya owns all characters. If I owned Hetalia, I would add in my own version of Pearl Harbor...which was my first story on here. SPONSER! :D Okay, this is too long. You know what you guys need to do?**

**Enjoy~!**

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><p>Chapter 15:<p>

Warning

Arthur discovered something new about Alfred that day. When he was nervous, he seemed to have a habit to fly fast.

_Very_ fast.

_Super_ fast.

So fast, that it actually made him dizzy and want to puke up whatever he had eaten before he had left. The speed they were travelling at made him silent for the entire journey back up the mountain, and he couldn't find the ability to speak until they were back on the cliff to Alfred's home.

"Alfred, please, slow down, whot's wrong?" He asked, voice trembling as he was jostled around, the demon in mention now running quickly before he barreled into the door, flew over the few feet it took to get to the bed before he plopped the angel on top of the covers. "Alfred, answer me."

"My boss," he panted out as he searched under the bed and in the drawers of the small side table. "He knows."

"Knows whot?"

Alfred, however, ignored him and took a flower from the bouquet he had given him and placed it in his hand, and then smiled up at the blond. "Even a pure white rose doesn't match your beauty."

Arthur felt his heart stop, and then begin a few seconds later again. He hid it, however, with a quiet gasp and bright cheeks as the American pulled the Brit up to his legs and tugged him flush against his body. Again, the shorter let in a sharp inhale in surprise as his arms were pulled backwards a bit too roughly. "Alfred, whot are you d-" He started, but a loud knock on the door stopped him.

"_Amerikanskaya! Privet!_"

He inhaled sharply at the sound of the Russian. _O-o-oh God, no! Not him!_ He tried to look at the American as his hands were pulled behind him with no explanation, and he started jumping, pulling his body upwards as he flapped his wings to escape, thrashing as his wrists still had a hold on them. "Let me go!" He begged, feeling the tears prick at his eyes as he lunged upwards again. _He's giving me to that demon; he's going to hand me over! Oh God! No!_ "I'm not going to that maniac, I don't want to!"

"What?" Alfred, still trying to tie his hands, halted for a second, before resuming again, this time going faster. "No! Thornless Rose, I would never do that to you!"

"Yes you would! You said your boss knows so you're giving me back to him!_" After I escaped from him to go back to you! That's too cruel!_

"Angel, why would I give someone I love away?" He managed to finish tying the rope off on his wrists, but then squished the Brit against his chest, preventing him from escaping or moving very much and cramming his wings against him. Arthur thrashed around, trying to move his hands out of the too-taut rope, the flower still in his grip and the water threatening to pour out of his eyes. "Angel, please!" He turned the English guardian around and looked straight into his eyes, grabbing his shoulders and forcing them to look at each other. "I would never let anything as beautiful as you get away from me! You're only ever going to be meant for me and no one else no matter what happens!"

The Briton breathed out rapidly, still trying to escape from the hold on him. "You don't care," he whispered. "If you did, you wouldn't be doing this to me."

"I'm doing this to protect you, not to harm you."

Arthur started to speak, but a hand slowly started to stroke the side of his face, and his words died away. He inhaled as the soft hands traced over his lips, over the soft curves with a gentle smile upon his own face.

"I'm going to give you a kiss one day," he whispered to him. "And that kiss…is going to be the best kiss that you have ever experienced."

Like so many times before, his heart beat rapidly sped up and boomed in his chest. Just as he was going to talk once again, the booming started up again.

"_Commie~! I am not a patient one. You have to open the door soon, da?_"

The Brit looked behind him at the door, and then back at the American. "Promise me you won't let me go," he whispered to the demon. Alfred nodded vigorously, the hand that was petting his ear now sailing down his chin and to his lips again.

"I promise," he stated in a clear voice, and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. "But I have to do one thing first."

"Whot's th_ahhhh!_" Just as soon as he had spoken, a pair of sharp teeth dug into his neck, and he gasped at the intrusion as it carefully took away a bit of his blood. The American mumbled something, whimpering as he slowly drew away the liquid. Arthur slouched forward into him, griping at the pain that had erupted inside of him but then mewling as the numbness flooded over his body. His eyes saw nothing but a haze, and he could feel his heart beating furiously, the blood pumping throughout him and some of it traveling to where it was being extracted. He didn't notice when the other had pulled away and carefully brought him to the floor, or the dozen of kisses that he placed upon his body, not even when a cloth was wrapped and tied over his skinny ankles. He accepted it, just as he accepted the peaceful feeling inside of him and the ball-shaped object that was inserted into his mouth, and then strapped to the back of his head. The only thing he did notice was Alfred. Alfred beside him, Alfred loving him, Alfred whispering to him that everything would be alright, he just had to hold on.

And reality snapped back into focus when he discovered him gone and the sound of a door opening, followed by a "Privet_, comrade~!_"

"_Ivan,_" Alfred growled with enough malice to kill. "_I don't know why the boss sent you, but he better have a pretty damn good reason to._"

Arthur, confused as to where he was and how he had gotten there, whimpered quietly, wondering just where he had been put. He knew he was awake, he could hear perfectly fine and he knew he wasn't dreaming. His sight was perfectly fine, he could see a mere sliver of light coming from a covering in front of him and probably over the object he was under. But there was something wrong, and he could barely remember a thing besides getting bitten for some reason, and then found himself here. Pushing against the object in his mouth told him there was something holding it back, a ball-shaped object that he couldn't push away. He didn't move his hands or legs, feeling the restraint around them, and could only listen to the conversation taking place, having already missed a part of it.

"_Get to the point, dirty commie, I don't have all day to wait for you to tell me what I've done_," he heard Alfred snap.

"_Be patient,_ da_?_" The Russian, Ivan, commented as if nothing was wrong. "_I will get to de point when you let me have de chance._"

"_Or, you can get to the point when I fucking ask you to._" Arthur trembled momentarily at hearing his demon curse, whether it was to him or not. His voice was not sweet or kind or loving or childish, or admiring. It was malicious and dribbling with abhor and animosity, coated in hatred. The Brit was relieved he didn't have to see that. Unfortunately, he had to endure it by ear, not eye.

The other demon didn't seem too affected by the curse, and made what seemed to be a yawn as rough boots pounded lightly against the floorboards, the reflection of the boots against the floor, flooding through the crack of light he saw. "_Of course, comrade. Whatever you say._" _Clunk, clunk, clunk._ The footsteps stopped just about a yard away from him; he could tell by the vibrations he had felt and the smell that reached his nose. "_Our boss doesn't want you getting too close to de angel you captured seven days ago._"

Arthur held back a gasp, and nearly choked. H-him? He wasn't supposed to be around Alfred? But, it had already been a week exactly since he had gotten here. Why was it such a big deal _now_ after so much time had been spent together? Lucky for him, Alfred felt the same way, and sputtered out a response; "_Th-that's ridiculous!_"

"_It is given orders, _da_? We must follow orders._"

"_Given orders my ass! There's no way anyone else is having my angel! Everyone knows one's capture is one's treasure only!_"

"Da_, but our boss wants de angel for de same reason as you: his beauty._" This time, the Englishman whimpered and felt his eyes burn with tears, but bit down on the ball in front of his mouth.

_To anyone else, I am nothing but a toy to play with,_ he thought to himself, successfully holding back a sob.

"_Arthur is too beautiful to go to anyone else but me! He deserves so much better, so much more than where he is!_" Alfred sneered, a hint of adoration shedding through his tone. The Brit smiled past the ball gag in his mouth and sighed quietly.

_To Alfred only, I am nothing but the most beautiful thing to ever exist._

"_If I could,_" he continued,"_I would remove him from here and place him on an island, where no one else can touch or see him. And I would be his guardian, his companion, his lover. I would be the only one to see him, because he deserves better than whatever he's experienced! And…when he's sad, I'll let him cry. And when he's happy, I'll laugh with him. And when he's tired, I'll put him to bed and protect him with everything I am. And…when he needs a hand to hold or lips to kiss…I'll let my hand touch his, and our lips to touch._"

Ivan was silent for a second, and Arthur would have died out of a bursting heart right then and there, oh how sweet the lines were to hear. But then a laugh escaped the Russian's lips, and the blond could see the amusement through his voice, and now where joy once was, fear twisted inside of him.

"_Oh~ comrade. You are too much,_" he quieted down, a grin still heard in his face. "_Don't you know dat your angel does not love you?_"

Arthur's heart stopped, and he struggled to get his wrists undone, to stand up and shout out the truth. _Whot a lie, whot a damn lie!_ He shouted inside his head, feeling the fury rise within him. Alfred seemed taken aback too, and even took a step backwards, judging by the sounds and the reflection of his boots moving away.

"_What?_" He inquired a bit more, suspicion clearly heard. Arthur wanted to shout out, wanted to say_ Don't you dare listen to him, because I'm crazy about you!_ But he found his wrists still bound and his mouth still covered and his location unknown, so he could do nothing but stay there in fury and distress.

"_Don't you know, comrade? De angel does not love you. I can tell._"

"_You lie. Arthur's just nervous. He still doesn't know._"

_Oh, but I do,_ Arthur thought, and groaned quietly as he tried to move slightly. Water poked at his vision to get out once again. _I do I do I do. And so, so much, my dear, perfect Alfred. Oh, so much._

"_If de angel loved you, comrade, don't you dink he would have already admitted to it?_" He chuckled. The Brit resisted the urge to growl at him. Thankfully, his demon did for him.

"_Angels are inexperienced to love, everyone knows that. He's still trying to get used to everything. I have to give him time._"

"_Time for what? Dere have already been plans t-_"

"_I don't care what the damn plans are, Ivan!_" Alfred's footsteps moved again, identified by the way he loudly stomped forward and the vibrations felt against the cool cheek that was lying on the floor. "_If you try to plan anything out between us, I promise both you and our boss that I will tear Hell down!_"

Ivan laughed again, and the Englishman whimpered. He obviously had a joy for making others miserable, and the latter didn't like it one bit. "_I see your problem._"

"_No you do-_"

"_You hold so much love for dis angel, dat you find it hard sometimes to try and love him, _da_? Is dat right?_" When Alfred didn't answer, the Russian demon snickered. "_Anyone would feel dat way, if it is so hard to love one because of de situation dey are in. I do not like love but I still remember what it is._" A light patting sound echoed around the room slightly. "_I give you 'til de next time de Harvesters come looking._"

"_That's in six days._" The four words were said in a low grumble of a voice.

"Da_, dat is right. You have until de Harvesters search de land again to convert your beautiful angel. If you do not do so, den we will take him away from you and do so ourselves, pitting him against you._"

"_There's no way you're going anywhere near him!_"

"_But if you change him before we do, den you will keep him as a companion. Is dat understood?_" Once again, the American didn't answer. Arthur, feeling the water leaving his eyes and more returning, griped against the gag, not caring if it was loud or not.

_This can't be happening!_ He sobbed within his head, leaning his forehead against the floor, as if it would cure him. _Oh God, Alfred, just get him out of here! Just get him out of here and hold me, tell me everything will be alright!_

"_I'm not promising you anything_," Alfred murmured.

"_It does not matter, it will happen either way._"

"_I said touch Arthur and I'm going to kill you: __**Do you understand me!**_" The demon yelled the last few words out in fury. Arthur choked once behind the gag, and clenched his eyes shut again. "_There is no way that I would ever let you see make any sort of contact with him whatsoever! No seeing, no hearing, no touching, no smelling: __**nothing**__! Are we understood?_"

Ivan chuckled one last time, and his footsteps faded away, probably going to the door. "Da,_ we are understood comrade. But it still does not make a difference, you'll see. De boss always gets his way, _da?"

"_Fuck off!_" The door slammed shut, and a loud crash, as if something had been thrown, sounded off. Even from his place, Arthur could hear the childish yet demonic cackle the Russian gave, pass the American's heavy breathing, the latter the only sound repeating itself, followed by a single sniffle and a sudden yell, before a pounding vibrated against the English angel's cheek. The cracked sounds of inhales and nearly inaudible cries were the only thing that caused Arthur to raise his wings up ever so carefully and brush them against the top of the object over him, loud enough so that the demon could hear. "_A-Arthur!_"

The other male tumbled over to him on what sounded like his knees, and pushed the entity of what was hiding the angel (which was soon discovered to be the bed) away, and gazed down at the bound male. Almost instantly, the blond hiccupped and whined, trying to nudge himself close to him until the other did so for him, lifting him into his arms and holding him close.

"M-my Pretty Angel." He sniffled again, and removed the bonds and gag from Arthur, giving him relief and letting out the sobs that had been prevented before. "M-my Flawless Beauty…nothing's going to ever happen to you. I promise you…no one will ever take you away from me. You'll stay right here with me always. Okay?" He pulled back momentarily, cheeks stained with his own tears. Arthur, who had taken to silently weeping and trembling, nodded his head slowly, before he was pulled closer and embraced tightly. He didn't know if the next words were a dream or an illusion to what he had heard, and he certainly didn't know what to do exactly about it, but he loved them nonetheless.

"I don't care what my boss says or what the Harvesters do to us, Arthur," Alfred whispered to him, and pressed a kiss to where he had bitten him. "I love you now, I'll love you beyond forever, and I won't stop loving you no matter what happens to us, okay?" Another loud sniff, clogged from his tears, and he breathed out slightly. "And…I don't know if you love me back, but…I don't care, because I don't ever want to leave your side."

_I don't want to either, luv,_ he said inside his own head, sobbing outside and clinging to the other as if his life depended on it. _I never want to leave your side, my dear Alfred. Never._


	16. Discussion

**Okay, to be honest with all of you, I believe this story gets a lot more love than it should. I mean, this has close to 174 alerts, 138 favorites, and 23,355 hits. And all I have to say is:**

**DAYMMMMM!**

**Because the writer of this fic is completely self-conscious when she writes and has started over on one story about...eh, 692677598 times. Yep. And yet here she sits, playing Spider Solitaire (damn addictive) with her Stitch (yes, the alien :3) and Meeko (the raccoon from Pocahontas) stuffed animals, in a WAY too big sweatshirt and skinny jeans. Because she has no life outside of her writing and school and her yaoi-universe.**

**...**

**Damn I am sad.**

**XD**

**Okay, so! I literally got the rest of this idea while losing a round of Spider Solitaire. I was just like OOOOOOH SHNAP, I MUST WRITE...right after I finish this round :3 XD Yeah, that sad. I was almost close to submitting to a bit of a writer's block when I know what I want but have no clue on how to get there, and so it was really a relief that I found something. Plus, I started writing a cardverse fic- y'know, with them as playing cards- and I'm obsessing over it right now. I have, like, all their positions and rules and histories and pairings and crap like that :3 Yeah, it'll be fantastic. With smut. And USUK. Awwww yeeeah.**

**BUT! Like my other story that I haven't mentioned probably, Hetalia: Apocalypse (oh yeah, you read that right), a trilogy, I'm going to finish writing it, and then I'm going to post it. That way, it'll be easier for me AKA I'm just lazy and don't wanna like...write it as I go along. Plus I have no clue what I'm doing, sooo yeah.**

**I need some sugar XD**

**And so, with that, I bring you this. X3 Aren't you proud of me? :D Nearly suffered from writer's block. By the way, sorry for the terrorizing of Arthur by Ivan in the last chapter . It's just my emotions all muddled together. So, before I start rambling like the last few times I have: enjoy~!**

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><p>Chapter 16:<p>

Discussion

The next morning, after finally calming each other down and relaxing for the rest of the evening, Alfred brought Arthur down to the edge of the mountain, where he said he could find some fish for them to cook up. The events of last night had already been discussed and put behind them, even though Arthur was sure both of them knew that the matter would come up again once the Harvesters started their search again in six-now-five days. If anyone was to keep track, it was currently Tuesday. The next time the Harvesters would visit would be in a couple more days, and by then, the duo had time to sort out whatever needed to be.

The two, with a few fruits they had found growing, chomped on the small breakfast while they sat together at the water's edge, leaning over and looking for the fish before the demon would take a long speared rod and stab it through the water. The blond sat beside him, literally in an embrace from one of his leather wings that radiated heat for him, watching as the fish were placed in a woven basket. Arthur had never been much of an outdoorsy person, picking up a book rather than a football*****. He didn't mind very much though; it meant that: one, Alfred was able to do something he enjoyed doing (as mentioned before departing the house); and two, he rather enjoyed the view he got whenever the Son would lean forward, wing unfolding from him, and his rump would come into full view (and that, along with any other part of Alfred that he had seen, was a wonder in itself), his poised tail twisting and turning in the air.

A cool gust of air passed over them, and he shivered, rubbing his hands over the upper parts of his arms. The rose that had been in his hand was still there, and he never wanted to let go of it, afraid that he might lose it despite having about eleven others. To him, it was the most gorgeous flower his eyes had ever seen, and he refused to let it go.

"Are you okay, Beautiful?"

A light hand started to caress his chin and push his face up, allowing the two to gaze into the other's eyes, pale scarlet to bright emerald. Arthur gulped down a lump in his throat, and nodded. "Of course I am," he forced himself to smile, and took the hand close to his face. "Don't worry about me, luv. I'll be fine as long as you stay right by me."

Alfred inhaled in shock with wide eyes, staring at the other in amazement. The angel, not knowing exactly what he had said yet, chuckled slightly and ruffled his hair, dodging the little cowlick in front of his hairline.

"Whot's wrong, luv, you look a bit oh dear _God_…" The full meaning of his spoken words fell into place and his face burst into a vibrant ruby, before diving into his hands to hide. _Why did I say that why did I say that I want to die I want to die I want to __**die**__…_ "Oh God I'm so sorry Alfred, I swear I didn't mean t-"

The American leaned over and placed a gentle kiss upon his forehead, and pulled back as the Brit looked up into a bright smile. His cheeks burned now with a vengeance of embarrassment, and he tried to form words. The taller male brushed back some of his hair, and grinned even wider. "Why are you so red, Angel?" He wondered, running his hands through the blond hair smoothly. "There's nothing wrong with that word."

_Oh my darling Alfred! So wonderful and kind and perfect and not yet mine…_ And something tugged at his heart, tearing it in two nearly making him scream. One side said to kiss him now and the other said to wait, the time wasn't right yet. _The time _has _been perfect; it's been bloody perfect for days now! Just kiss him! But yet…it doesn't seem right. There's something about the mood of the time that doesn't seem right. Who cares about the mood, though? You can have yourself a lover! But…what will __**he**__ say about it so suddenly? I need a mental preparation for this. A mental preparation for a confession…am I serious? I should just tell him; no…I should wait. Oh, god dammit, I don't know!_

A cool drop of something was dropped onto his shoulders, and he jumped, startled out of his thoughts, and looked down at his arms in curiosity. The strong smell of coffee beans and leather and something so American met his nose, and he pulled away from the fluffy collar to gaze at the now jacketless male. He took a swallow of air in order to get the (proper) words to use to form a sentence.

"W-why did you give this to me?" He wondered, pulling the sleeves over him a bit more and snuggling into the leather. It gave an uplifting, consoling energy to him, and he felt safe in the jacket; protected, away from reality. And he dove even more into his own world when Alfred turned around, still leaning, to look into his eyes with a warm smile.

"You looked a little cold," he answered, shyly twisting his tail over his leg. The English angel watched it sway and turn, as if dancing slowly and steadily to its own rhythm. "And I want my Beautiful to be happy."

Arthur furrowed his brows together faintly. "But I am happy…" He gazed down into his lap and crossed legs. "I-I have you by my side…"

Alfred giggled as if he were a child, and fixed their position so that they connected their foreheads together. The blonde found his face on fire once again, but not out of embarrassment.

_Oh God, he's right there, he's so close, so close! Just a bit more, luv, come on!_

"Hey…," he whispered.

"Yes?" The Englishman mumbled back.

"…I want to kiss you right now." Arthur didn't have the chance to register anything when their breaths were all of the sudden shared with the other, their eyes locked and their mouths not far apart. "I want to give you the most perfect kiss someone has ever gotten one. I want this to be your favorite kiss, your favorite moment, your favorite memory, and all because it was of us, just us, here. I'm just going…to take your cheeks…" he gently took either side of the other's face, "and pull it close…and place the best kiss ever, filled with love, onto your smooth, pink lips…" He dipped his head forward and had closed his eyes, now only inches away—

"Oh my~ look wat our eyes 'ave been gifted on to feast, hm~?"

The two, one extremely flustered and the other disappointed, separated from each other to look at the French demon, whose shadow stretched over them. Alfred, oblivious to the other, grinned up at the demon and Matthew, who stood beside him. "Hey, Frenchie," he greeted the Son of the Dark while acting as if nothing suggestive was just happening.

"Ah, _Bonjour, mon ami_," he smirked with a wink, and strode over to the two casually, slightly putting a bit of strut in his walk. "It seems as if you two 'ave finally, wat do you Americans say…'ooked up?"

The pale-eyed demon in mention chuckled. "Ah, no, not yet."

In response to the question asked, Arthur hid his face into the leather jacket that still adorned his body, flush with embarrassment, feeling the eyes of the two lovers bore into him. Francis laughed. "Ah, wat a naïve little_ ange_; 'e does not know wat 'e is missing, _non_?"

"Eh, it's alright." A gentle hand, one he knew belonged to Alfred, started to gently rub up and down his shoulder. "I don't wanna rush him."

"_Oui,_ but 'ow long are you willing to wait for 'im?"

The Brit peeked out of his hiding spot and blinked, watching as the American's lip rose in a sneer. "To be honest I don't think that's any of your business."

The Frenchman glared and simpered. "Well it's true, is it not? Who knows, in a few days 'e may not want to be wiz you. You should go a'ead and get 'im before 'e is taken."

"I thought I said that's none of your business." His grip hardened tightly onto the angel's shoulder, causing the latter to wince and try and push it off. However, another hand grabbed him, this time edged with claws, and dragged him over to his side, pinning him close to him. His hand flew over and landed on the other's chest, which this time was only covered by a tank top, to gain some balance, and he blushed a deep color. "And I would never let anyone touch my Flawless Beauty."

The standing demon rolled his eyes. "Oh Alfred. You are still too young to fully understand just wat you are doing." Alfred began to open his mouth and speak, but he was silenced. "No matter; your relationship is not wy I am 'ere."

"Then get to the point." He pulled the Englishman closer, so close that he was staring into the crook of his neck. Arthur's gulped as his mind raced to comprehend all of this.

"Zere is a discussion, 'appening right now at ze top of ze mountain. It is 'eld for purposes zat cannot be discussed in such an open place."

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What purposes exactly?"

Francis chuckled. "Well you'll just 'ave to find out zen, won't you?"

* * *

><p>Arthur hadn't thought about how well-known Alfred would be with the other demons until after they had made it into the library where the meeting was being held. When the American was greeted with two joyful exclamations from Antonio and another demon that he couldn't remember learning the name of, Kiku giving a light bow, and Ludwig, who didn't show much emotion besides a curt nod of his head and a brief smile, the blond angel suddenly felt unimportant in his eyes, and wished he could crawl away into his own small, private hiding spot where he could just sit there and let the world go by him while he watched. In Alfred's eyes, he now felt too small, a minority compared to the others, his explanation for shying away from the other and slipping next to Yao, who was snoozing in one of the comfier chairs with a book in his lap. The demon didn't even notice him, causing a wave of sorrow to wash over his body and emit a quiet whimper from him.<p>

"He still cares about you."

Arthur didn't turn around to acknowledge Lovino, having already heard his voice more than enough times to recognize it without any trouble. "I know that but it doesn't mean it still hurts when he ignores you." He glanced up at the older Vargas brother with a look that was begging, pleading, to understand where he was coming from. _Please,_ his eyes beseeched, _understand me. I love him more than I can ever understand._ The Italian raised his eyebrows in a bit of surprise, but then relaxed them and nodded before retreating back to sit beside his brother.

The Brit was silent as he watched the other demons converse, their chat a distant noise that he didn't want to hear but found himself doing so. By what he had observed so far, Ludwig- the German demon Feliciano was in love with- was in charge if Alfred wasn't talking and chattering along rapidly. Francis, Antonio, and their other friend seemed to be those idiots that joked around and teased the others relentlessly, receiving glares from the German demon but ignoring him. Kiku was the silent one of the six, and the few times he had already spoken was when he would get the others to shut their mouths, and when he said something to them, the words were some of the wisest Arthur had ever heard uttered.

"Why you staring at Kiku aru?"

The blond jumped at the statement, and would've given a cry if he hadn't known that voice just by the "aru" that had permanently tagged itself on to almost every sentence Yao uttered, and the way his English was organized whenever he was upset or just waking up from sleeping. "I didn't know you were up," he murmured so the others wouldn't hear.

"I just did," he yawned, sitting up weakly, and kept his voice lowered as well. "So, why were you staring at Kiku aru?"

"Just…examining them." It sounded strange, but he knew he didn't have to lie around his closest friend. The Chinese angel looked at what he was staring at, and chuckled.

"You're upset he's not paying attention to you aru. Aren't you?" By he, it was obvious that he was referring to Alfred.

Arthur frowned at how obvious he seemed to be at times. "Not that, exactly. More like…I'm upset I was disregarded in such a way."

Yao shook his head with laughing quietly, and then moved himself closer to his friend. "Arthur, Arthur, Arthur…do you know why they're holding his meeting aru?"

The Englishman looked over at him and hummed in uncertainty. "Matthew had mentioned something about us, the angels, but he wosn't quite specific."

He leaned forward so that their faces were nearly touching, golden eyes full of the truth. "They're holding this meeting, this discussion, for us. So they can keep us safe and discuss what they're going to do to protect us."

Arthur instantly felt a bit guilty, for what he didn't know. He just suddenly felt like he shouldn't be upset with him over something as trivial as disregard. He gave a silent exhale, and leaned against the older, curling up beside him and shutting his eyes. "You're right," he whispered. "You're always right."

"Because I'm the oldest aru."

The blond nudged him. "Don't grow an ego."

The dark-haired guardian chuckled, and ran his hand down the other's back softly, in between his wings. "When Kiku injured you at your trial…when he outlined where your wings stick out…"

"Whot about it?" He could feel sleep digging into him, dragging him slowly down into oblivion.

"I don't mean to be rude, but…there should be scars aru. Where are they?"

He sat up slightly and looked at the feathered wings, fluttering on either side of him with care. He moved carefully, bristling at the right one's sharp twinges, and then lay back down. "The water from the lake that runs down the mountain. It heals wounds, you know. It's strange, though; you wouldn't think you could find water like that down here."

Yao tensed at the mention of healing, and halted in his ministrations, but then continued, now tracing invisible and various patterns into the sun-shaded locks. "That reminds me of something I wanted to tell you aru…"

"Hm…" He fixed his position and gave a petite yawn. "Whot is that?"

"I-I…well, Kiku and I tried the water washing, like you had said aru. And, well…nothing happened."

Arthur's eyes flew open, and he cautiously sat up as if in great pain. "Wh…whot do you mean…'nothing happened'."

He whimpered quietly, and toyed with the ends of his ponytail, a habit of his that was to distract himself from something big. "The wounds on my body, they stopped bleeding and scarred over but didn't disappear. B-but…my wings and halo, they…they're still the same aru."

Now that he had been told, he could see the ring of light yellow just above his hair, still cracked and in the same position it had been in last time: various lines and jagged scars that didn't seem possible to fix. His wings were in a similar position, looking exactly the same despite their different position, and were lying against his back. The Briton gulped, and started to reach out to touch the tender appendages, but pulled back slowly. He knew what it felt like to have an injured wing, and it wasn't pleasant when it was handled with. "I'm so sorry."

Yao shook his head and smiled. "It's good for me aru. It's pain, but…because I can't heal that only means that…I-I'm probably going to…be changed."

Arthur gulped, gave a whine, and allowed the quick darkness to shroud him.

* * *

><p>"<em>Feliciano and I have already agreed to change him. Zere is no doubt zat he vill become vun of us by tomorrow."<em>

"_Kesese~ West, you're growing up so fast!"_

_:sigh: "Anyvun else?"_

"_As of rate, Yao has become weaker zan when he arrived. Zere is no doubt we wirr have to change him."_

"Mathieu _and I 'ave zought about it. I don't want to push _mon amour. _ We boz agreed zat wen 'e is ready to, we will go zrough wiz it."_

"_Lovi is cursing at me more and more, and he wants even more sex~! He also said he wants to be with me forever, so I asked if he would want to change and he said sure! Right, Lovi~!"_

_:in the background: "Fuck off, fucking _puttana_!"_

"_See~? He loves me!"_

"_Ohohohon~, Toni has a feisty one, _non_?"_

"_Kesesesese! Don't fuck him too hard, Antonio!"_

"_Ahahaha~ you know I love my passion~!"_

"_Can ve please get on wiz za meeting?"_

"_Arthur won't let me do anything fun with him. I don't even think he loves me!"_

"L'amour _is a complicated zing, _mon ami. _You must give 'im time to zink everyzing out."_

"_Francis, you just told me that he may not love me in a few days."_

"_So? I changed in five minutes."_

"_Look, asshole, just go shove your dick into a hole, alright?"_

"Excusez-moi_? Alfred, listen to me, you must give your _Anglais _some time to zink zings zrough. 'e may be a bit uncomfortable wiz all ze affection you give 'im. Angels…zey are not like us."_

"_He's right,_ amigo_. It took Lovino a long while before he finally realized he was in love with me. And we'd already had sex about three times before that!"_

_:in the background: "Shut the fuck up, Antonio!"_

"_Ahaha~ love you too Lovi~!"_

_:grumble:_

"_But I don't want him to wait! I want Arthur to love me now before Ivan takes him!"_

"_Arfred, don't yerr, he may hear you."_

"_I don't care, I want him to love me! I put so much out there for him and he never even looks at me the same way! He acts affectionate, but it's so…weird to show him how much I love him and he just stutters and blushes and thanks me!"_

"_Alfred, please calm yourself before he vakes up."_

"_You don't even have a problem with Feliciano, Ludwig! Kiku told me you've said he's like an open book and he shares all of his emotions with everyone else! My Arthur, my Beautiful, my Angel, he can't even look at me without hiding how he's feeling! I have to- guess, or just look into his eyes, but he acts like he's hiding something from me!"_

"_Whoa, okay, Awesome__******__, put zat chair down now."_

"_Don't tell me what to do, I'm not a child!"_

"_No one said you were, _amigo_, just relax!"_

"_Know what? I don't need this. I'm leaving."_

"_Awesome, kid-"_

"_No." :slam:_

"_Arfred-" "Oh _mon dieu_…-"_

"_Arthur! Get up aru!"_

A loud slam of a door startled Arthur from sleeping, as well as the yelling and stomping up the stairs that was now taking place. Still dazed, he glanced around the room to gaze up at the swinging door, which Alfred had most likely gone through. Yao didn't waste one second, and helped him stand.

"Come on, we have to stop him aru!" He informed him, pulling him behind him hastily. "I've been trying to get you up ever since he started yelling!"

"Where did he go?" He wondered, panic beginning to rise inside of him. He vaguely remembered them talking and then blacking out, and he believed he had heard the demons talking quietly to each other, but he wasn't too sure right now. Everything was a bit hazy still considering he was still half-asleep.

The duo managed to get up the stairs to the exit of the library, and followed Francis and Kiku as they followed after the fuming American. The English angel gulped, piling even more self-blame onto himself. If he had just told Alfred how he felt, if he had just explained to him just what he was feeling about him, then maybe he wouldn't be storming out, and the blond wouldn't be going after him. Luckily, the Frenchman was fast enough to be keeping pace with Alfred, the other demon following them and keeping an eye on Yao and Arthur. The conversation flooded back to them, and with every word it threw a knife into the Briton's heart.

"Alfred, _mon ami_, just listen for one second," Francis began. "I understand you are upset and you're zrowing a tantrum right now, but it is not good to be getting so upset over somezing so trivial!"

"_Hai_, he is right," Kiku added. "Your anger is stirr very much inexperienced wiz rove, as Francis-san said before. You cannot rush him yet, you must ret him think about it first."

"He's had seven days to think, he can tell me now!" Alfred snapped, and unfurled his wings as soon as he was out of the man-made corridor and back in the house.

"Alfred, please, just wait a minute," Arthur called out to him.

The American only scoffed in disgust as a response. "You're the last person I'd want to talk to!"

He held back a sob as the other sauntered out of the door, and at that point he didn't care anymore. He was going to tell Alfred, was going to pour out the truth, was going to tell him what he felt:

and he wasn't afraid as he wrenched his way out of Yao's parent-like grip;

and he wasn't doubtful as he dashed out past the two other demons and to Alfred;

and he wasn't caring as he turned him around roughly;

and he was definitely petrified with terror and shock as his delicate form was wrenched backwards by a rough grip and a knife was pressed against his throat, nearly digging in to his skin.

"Too late, comrade~! You were too late~!"

_Bloody. Hell._

*** Football as in soccer, for the Americans. Since it's Artie's POV, I wanted to give the story a lil' bit of his vocab (Imma nerd)**

****This is based off of a headcanon that I have about the Awesome Trio (America, Prussia and Denmark) calling each other awesome in the nation that they're talking to's langauge. So America is Awesome in English, Prussia is Awesome in German, and Denmark is Awesome in Danish :3 Pretty cool, right?**


	17. Protection

**I just realized how suggestive this chapter name sounds XD Even though it shouldn't, because the next chapter is the sex.**

**Okay, so! Hating Alfred and Francis and Ivan? Well, you will probably hate Ivan even more and start to love Alfred and just sorta...make up with Francis, because this chapter has one of my favorite moments in this story. Even though I was up until five writing this story and, I wanted to sleep but I kept on writing! And slept the whole morning because of this. :3 So it would've been up last night but I didn't want to post shit. So I rewrote some parts and made it more interesting and yeah. You're also going to pity Yao a helluva lot more now. Because I said so. But I love Yao, I really do! :D 333**

**By the way, Pizza Hut's onion pizza is really good :D When you have no NY pizza, get Domino's and Pizza Hut. And did you know that New York pizza is so good because of the water? Yeah, apparently, there was a contest for the best pizza in America (HERO NATION YEAH! :D) and he was from New York and when asked how he won, he said he had imported water from New York. And yeah, I so wanna go back and make that into my accent XD**

**Also, did anyone notice that Lovino called Antonio a whore (_puttana_) last chapter? No? Well now ya know :3**

**Speaking of foreign language: _Duìbùqǐ_ (dee boo she)- I'm sorry. Like, the statement I am sorry. I really need to learn another language. I need French. And Japanese. And Chinese. And Italian. Probably Danish. Know what sounds awesome? Icelandic! :D I've heard it from multilanguage songs on YouTube (sponsor) and it sounds so AWESOME! You should really watch some videos like that, but you have to get good ones. Like "Go the Distance" and "Be Prepared" or "Two Worlds" and Lady Skarlett is just going to shut her mout now. Aren't you glad~? :D**

**And one more thing: the animals, if you haven't noticed (not counting Francis or Alfred), are actually the national animals of them. Like for Ludwig and Gilbert, it's a black eagle, Antonio's a bull, and Kiku's a stork. Oh, and Ivan's a Russian bear. France doesn't really have one, but the unconfirmed one was a rooster and so I changed him into a cheetah because France apparently runs really _really REALLY_ fast. And so do cheetahs, so Francis can turn into a cheetah because I said so. And Alfred has a bald eagle because he's American and THAT IS HOW WE DO IT XD but I'm gonna have him be both a bald eagle and a grizzly, the grizzly because they are pretty huge and menacing at times and I wanted Alfred to be badass because there were already two eagles so yeah. Alfred's a grizzly...in bed XD Okay, okay, I'll stop XD Oh God, I'm so dumb sometimes. And yet I made honor roll at my school.**

**Okay, no more ramble! I own nothing here besides the recovery system. That I just made up randomly. Hidekaz Himaruya owns the characters.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 17:<p>

Protection

When Alfred noticed the sharp, long, knife that was pressed to Arthur's neck, a nice little curve at the end of the blade, he could do nothing but glare at Ivan while he threatened the Brit's safety. The blond could smell the vodka wafting behind him, causing him to nearly gag at the stench. His eyes met the other demon's for a second, and he would have stepped back in surprise to avoid the anger in those now jet-black eyes. In fact, he would do anything to get away from the American, if it weren't for that dagger at the very edge of his throat.

"You should be more careful with how you handle your angel, _da_?" Ivan grinned, judging by the tone of his voice. "People like me could take him away~." The Englishman struggled slightly, trying to move his body away until he was stopped, the blade threatening to bury itself in his throat again. Alfred's growl, deep and loud, sounded as if he was possessed by some crazy animal, an actual demon over one who was in love with him. The Russian couldn't help but laugh. "Oh~ does de comrade want his little angel again~?"

"Just give him back to me unharmed," the shorter Son of the Dark glared, "and I won't do anything drastic."

"Where's de fun in dat?" He tilted his head to the side. "I won't get to do this."

Arthur screamed suddenly as the knife slightly cut his skin, dragging out a thin yet painful river of blood from the wound that slithered down his chest out of his sight. _A-ah, goddammit!_ Tears stung his eyes and he bit his lip while hissing out his pain, trying to arch his body away from the weapon, but it only moved closer to him. Alfred watched, strangely eerie and quiet, and didn't move. The Brit watched him follow the blood stain his white garment, the scarlet river sliding down his legs as he felt it, cool and disturbing and irritating. He whined a bit at the feeling, and once again tried to pry the hand of the knife away.

"What are you doing? No!" Ivan wrenched the knife away, and instead wrapped his whole arm around the shorter male before he could run. The blonde's yell was stopped short, starting but then switching into a pained choke. _Air, air, ah G-God!_ Ivan's next words were drowned out by everything, and he stared at his now powdery-red-eyed demon, his love, his admirer, the only one he wanted to be with right now. Alfred saw him watching, and gave a gentle smile at him. He didn't say anything, but his eyes- those pale, mysterious treasures of whitish scarlet- could say it all.

_You hold on, Beautiful, alright? I want to save you._

Arthur couldn't answer back with the arm choking him, and he gagged again, legs slipping. His mouth was overly moistened with spittle, dark spots littered his vision and he tried to bat them away, tried to get them to leave but…oh, this feeling…too great, too…soothing…

And it was suddenly wrenched away from him as he was dropped to the ground and able to breathe, inhaling great gasps of air and choking violently to get his lungs working properly again. He heaved in air like it would be his last, his sounds overpowering the yell of Russian from just behind him. A gentle hand rubbed his back to calm him, but the angel wouldn't have any of it- he knew that pattern well- and he unfurled himself at him, clutching him close to him around his neck and burrowing his face into the leather jacket to suppress his weeping. He inhaled its scent and smiled, feeling safe in the smell of coffee beans and grilled meat and American, while the owner of the aroma gently his back as he moved, rocking back and forth, back and forth.

"I'm so sorry, Beautiful," he whispered to him. Arthur sniffed and gazed up at him, resting his head on his shoulder, their faces close together.

"I-I suppose…it's alright," he replied quietly. Alfred pushed back a lock of the blonde's shaggy hair, and slipped his arm under his legs so that he was cradling him.

"But now you're okay, right?" He took the Brit's fingers and placed a kiss on top of them. The shorter shyly grinned up at him and shook his head, receiving a light laugh. He paused for a second, examining the blond, and then embraced him tightly, fixing their positions once again and enveloping his arms around him. "My Flawless Beauty…I'm so sorry you got hurt."

Arthur exhaled quietly, and returned the embrace, enjoying the soft rubs that traced his back. "You're forgiven, my luv. Don't fret."

The American hummed quietly, his hot breath ghosting against his neck and chasing shivers down his spine. "Maybe, after I beat that commie's ass, we can maybe go somewhere…," a chilly yet cooling sensation ran along the shell of the ear, eliciting a sharp surprised gasp, "private."

The Brit bit his lower lip to suppress a moan, and found himself nodding vigorously. "O-of course." _Oh God, should I…_ He mentally shook his head of the doubt and leaned up and pecked the demon's cheek quickly and shyly, almost as if it had never happened. His blossomed cheeks, however, gave it away, and Alfred's wings and mood perked up at the connection. The kiss was quick and just a brush, but the Englishman's lips had definitely pressed against the taller male's cheek. Instantly, a wide beam sprung up from his face, and he cuddled the other close to him, cheering loudly and pressing a many kisses as he could upon the shorter.

"As soon as I'm done beating that commie up, I'm giving you the best time you'll ever witness!" He declared, and gave a wink. Arthur laughed, blushing still, and nodded.

"I'd like that, luv." _I'd do anything for you as long as it means we get to be together._ He looked behind Alfred, at the tall brown-furred bear in the same place where Ivan had been, roaring ferociously and swapping its large paws at the two jet-black eagles that floated above him. From beside him, a bull charged passed him, swinging one of his giant horns down as he passed by him, and a Red-crowned Stork, with its thin legs and long beak, cleverly dodged the bear's mitts and leaped from place to place before the tip of his nose would try and mostly succeed in harming him. The blond tore his gaze away with a weak smile, and wrapped another hug around him. "Don't get hurt."

Alfred smiled, and traced his fingers underneath his chin. "I can't get hurt."

Arthur doubted this statement just a bit, and although he nodded his head and accepted the light kiss on the head before he left, he couldn't shake the worrying feeling of dread that drowned in his stomach. He could only sit far from the fight and watch as Alfred spread his wings out, growing coarse-looking fur and switching his horns and devil's tail for a pair of rounded ears and a stubby tail, wings folding backwards as his height shot up a few feet to match the other. It was obvious that he had been changed to a bear, telling by the loud and ear-aching roar he let out as he tackled the other down to the ground.

"Arthur aru!"

Named looked over at the Chinese angel that suddenly sat down beside him and placed a hand at the scratch on his neck with water-dripping hands, rapidly jabbering away in Chinese as he wiped at the wound to prevent the loss of blood. Arthur, smiling in amusement, pushed his hand away and laughed lightly.

"Yao, I'm fine," he assured the brown-haired male, removing his hand away from his. "I'm alright, I promise."

"You could have died aru!" He frowned, his hand gone but annoyance shown on his face. "What you thinking, doing something like that! You could have died aru!"

"Yao, I don't think Alfred would ha-"

"Who would run out like that aru? Only idiot do that!"

"Yao, relax, please."

"No, I not done yet aru! You so stupid aru! You could have _died_!"

"Yao!" This time, he lightly grabbed his shoulders and shook them gently, as if to wake him from a disturbed daze. "Relax." The older blinked to get his bearings, and then bowed his head, embarrassment shown on his face and.

"_Duìbùqǐ_," he mumbled sheepishly, looking anywhere but the green eyes. "I got worried aru."

"I know you did." He took the other's hand and rubbed it. "But I'm fine now, and that's whot matters."

Yao nodded, still not maintaining eye contact. "I didn't expect you to leave and go out to him, at least not until Francis or Kiku made it first aru."

A smile ghosted upon his features. "People do things when they're in love, yeah?" He glanced over at the demons, recognizing Ivan attempting to go over to the house, but the bull swinging a horn past his side and one of the ebony eagles to grab him by his shoulders and toss him backwards. "You want to make sure your lover is okay and well. And I bet you would have done the same thing for Kiku."

The Chinese angel nodded with a blush. "_Shì_. I know aru."

Arthur could sense his friend felt a bit uneasy, and pulled him into a comforting embrace, allowing the rail-thin arms to wrap around his waist. "You need to explain something to me, too." The brown-haired angel glanced up at him. "Whot exactly did you mean when you said that you were going to be changed?"

Yao let a sigh out, and burrowed his face into the other's shoulder, mumbling. From the fight, a vicious and loud snarl that was similar to a cat rang into the air, and Arthur watched a blur of yellow leap above his head, and latched himself onto the taller bear's back, slashing his claws and hitting the other's backside as if it was a rug. The blond looked down at him again.

"Repeat that?"

The Chinese angel huffed, and sat up a bit just so that he could be heard. "I have to be changed to a demon soon because I've lost too much blood and don't have the ability to heal anymore aru."

Arthur felt a chill creep in his spine, and cringed. Of course; his injuries were so severe, that he _had_ to be changed to a demon. There was no doubt about it. An angel's body had a recovery system alongside their blood, and was also quite similar to it. The only difference was the recovery system was gold, and only spilled if they had an extreme accident. In any other situation, it would help stop the flow of blood out of the injury and heal any wounds for them, especially any they may have received from death. But, if they lose too much of the recovery system (which is possible to do- even when it's being lost it still fixes any gashes or the like), your body will not be able to heal properly. Mostly, in Heaven, after demon attacks, their Father would place them in the Jordan River, and let them sleep for ten years and heal. But now, there was no Jordan or sleeping for a decade. Yao was permanently stuck like a broken and mangled ragdoll. "So…you'll have to stay down here?"

The older paused, but then nodded with the ghost of a smile upon his face. "I-I don't know when, but it'll have to be this week. He says he'll do it gently, and that the weaker you are, the less it'll hurt. Not by much, but it won't be too agonizing."

"Does that explain your halo and wings?" A thud startled the two for a moment, and they glanced over to see the two eagles pinning down the brown bear, the stork poking the large paws as the cheetah and bull charged from a distance. Alfred, the other bear, was standing over the Russia-turned-animal and roaring as if it would be his last, maw wide and hovering above the other's ears. Yao tore his eyes away slowly, but bobbed his head once in confirmation with a grimace.

"_Shì aru._ My halo was by me on purpose, but he…s-sliced off my feathers."

"And you still…" Arthur gulped nervously. "…l-love him." _But how, Yao? If someone caused you pain and you loved them dearly, you would still love him?_

He managed to raise his lips in an attempt to smile. "I know it sounds crazy, but…I-I do. He hurt me intentionally, and it really was horrible to have the feathers plucked, but…i-it's definitely worth it because I get to have an eternity with Kiku."

The Englishman was silent for a moment more, running a finger over one of his kneecaps. Would he, one day soon, be in the same place as Yao, maybe not physical by appearance, but in circumstance? Would he, perhaps, be waiting for the time to finally come where he can start his eternity with the only one he loved? He hoped so…oh, he did. He wished that they could finally just forget about anything for however long they wanted, just so they can be together for as long as they could, as long as they could manage.

A lone grouse- sounding similar to one that would be in pain- arose from the now settled fight as a flap of batwings signaled Ivan now back to normal and leaving, passing over the two angels but giving no sign that he had noticed them. Both emerald and golden eyes watched his shadow pass, and then wavered their glances to the two landing eagles, which changed back to Ludwig and the other German-accented demon, and the stork to Kiku. Their attention was on a brown lump on the ground that was unsteadily breathing, as if he was in pain, and an already-back-to-demon-form Francis and Antonio were kneeling beside him, rubbing his side. The French demon said something to him that was slightly muttered, and a deep whine followed after him speaking. The Spaniard grimaced, and looked up to see the two guardians gazing at them, before he gestured to the others of their presence. Kiku looked over at Yao and no words needed to be shared, as the Chinese angel rushed over to him, instantly cuddling close to him. Arthur stood up slowly and walked over to them, waiting for his rambunctious demon to pop out of nowhere and snuggle him close to his cheek, planting kisses and pecks and tongue and lips all over his body and then take him to his home, where they would stay for hours and continuously make…m-make l-love…o-or, that's what he hoped.

"Where's Alfred?" The Brit whispered in a tremor when he was by their side. Ludwig rubbed his neck, pale eyes trained on the bear in front of him. The blond followed his gaze, and held back a gag and vomit at the view of the bloody neck that was not only covered and matted in blood but causing much pain to the animal as seen through his inhales and exhales. Various scrapes showed he had been injured the worse, and a large gash in his side was still bleeding. "O-oh dear God…" Tears pushed and wished to be let out, but he hid his vision with eyelids. _N-no, prevent your tears, now is not the time. D-don't let anyone see them. _He looked up at the others, forcing his eyes to look away. "Is he…"

"_Nein,_ he's still alive,but he has major injury to his zroat," Ludwig replied. "Ivan, he…he's a tough fighter. He…doesn't take to ozers very vell if zey don't agree wiz his ideas. And he _und _Alfred are…great rivals."

Arthur got down on his knees slowly, eyeing the bear with concern and anxiety. _My Alfred…oh, my poor, my dear, my lovely…why did it have to be you?_ "H-he'll be alright, y-yeah?" _Please tell me he will, I won't be able to live without him. _The other German-speaking male looked over at the other.

"He needs to get to somevhere vhere he can heal quickly," he commented. "Like…a river or some oasis."

"By Alfred's house, just off the cliff it sits on, there's a river that can heal him in mere minutes."

"Do you know vhere it is?" When the Englishman nodded hastily and worriedly, the unanimous demon spread his wings out as far as they could go, and let his body fade back into an eagle's. Arthur found himself backing away for a second, but otherwise didn't comment.

"Gilbert will return 'im,"Francis answered, a tone of depression clouding over his voice. Gilbert tilted his head faintly and placed a feather wing on top of the other one's head so that he could pat it gently, as if in pity and comfort. His talons, then hidden, stretched out a little bit and he ruffled his wings and feathers out, before he got himself into the air and gently wrapped his claws around the bear's torso. The bear cried out in pain shortly, and was reduced to softly whining. The Briton got himself into the air, gnawing his lip and gliding in front of the other two to lead the way, hoping he wouldn't be too late.

* * *

><p>In no more than three minutes, after gently laying the still-a-grizzly-bear Alfred on the ground softly, bidding Gilbert a polite good-bye- along with a reminder to "tell za kid zat he did an awesome job"- Arthur collapsed on top the bear and broke out sobbing.<p>

…

Well.

The emotions had already been there since he had first seen him on the ground, bleeding. However, he had forced himself to think of something else; anything to keep his mind off the subject as he distracted himself (was Tino, the Finnish angel, going to change if he hadn't already? Were Mathias and Lukas still doing alright and being a perfect couple?) There were plenty of things he could think of, but his mind kept on wavering to one demon.

Alfred.

Alfred so perfect and wonderful but injured and needing his help desperately.

With a last sniffle, he sat up and weakly gazed at the grizzly. He had reportedly fallen unconscious from the pain and for being too long in his animal stage, and would be for a while if his wounds weren't cared to properly. Thin, naturally pale hands ran through the coarse fur as his mind wandered about the American and what he had said to him, about going somewhere private. The Englishman had hoped for something intimate and totally private, but so far figured he would receive none. No matter how nervous he was, he wanted to be Alfred's no matter what. He wanted every piece of his skin to be touched by those rough yet gentle fingers, allow his body to be overcome with passion and want and desire and love, to be taken as if they were the only two beings in the world of both Heaven and Hell, to be taken as if he was the only precious thing to Alfred and always would be, the most loved being ever to have existed.

_A-ah; Arthur, stop! He obviously can't attend to your needs right now. Right now…_ his eyes followed invisible pattern, and gazed at the lifeless animal beside him, _right now…_he_ needs you, whether or not he can barely say it._

To clear his thoughts, he retrieved the seashell and gathered it with water (luckily, they had landed very close to the river) and gazed one last time at the unconscious male that was supposedly Alfred.

"I-I'm just going to clean you up," he whispered. "Is that alright?" Knowing he wouldn't obtain an answer, he poured the clear liquid onto the other hastily, the first drops of water hitting a particularly bad wound. The bear roared and swiped a (thankfully with retracted claws) paw, contacting with the Briton and sending him flying into the water. Arthur yelped as his body contacting with the water, his hands and bottom scraping the floor of the river. The grizzly rotated his head and whined in guilt. The blond looked at him with fear in his gaze, fright still bubbling inside of him. Nonetheless, he managed to get a grin upon his face as a greeting. "H-hello, luv." He stood from his place and strode over carefully, eyeing him as if he was going to slash out at him again. Alfred barked in impatience, and pawed upwards, as if to get him closer. "I'm just here to get you better, alright Alfred? I-I'm not going to harm you."

The American-turned-bear snorted and gently placed a paw on the other's foot, but stayed still for him nonetheless.

Arthur didn't know what time it was, the sky dimming down to darkness, as he washed and smoothed down fur, cleaning out the mats of fur and clearing the body of bloodstains and scars. Several of them were mostly painful to any contact, judging by the way the bear griped and whined and growled whenever one was handled, but he didn't paw at the angel beside him. He watched him with his sky-blue eyes (which he was still wondering how they had gotten there), pawing gently whenever there was a bad spot he didn't like. By the time the Englishman was sure he was finally done cleaning the bear of any dirt and wounds with the water, he had the grizzly sitting on his behind while he stood tall to clean the animal, now using the soap he had found and his gentle fingers to comb through the fur thoroughly. Alfred was humming in contentment as the top of his head was now sanitized, and he rubbed against the hand, leg thumping in its place whenever a nice spot was tapped ever so lightly. The Brit watched his leg, and failed to hold back a laugh. "That feels good now, doesn't it?" His response was a loud hum and a batting of blue eyes, causing a blush to arise on his cheeks, and he bowed his head shyly. "You're too much for me."

The bear's next sounds were similar to barks of laughter, and the Brit let loose a chuckle from the noise. He took a couple of steps back to admire the soapy bear, who was currently trying to lick it off his pelt. His arms were sore from all the word he had put them through, and he wanted nothing more right now than to lie down and let them rest, but he had to get the job done for Alfred. Nevertheless, when he got back to working and chatting with the other, receiving grunts and other noises from him, this was a much more playful time for the bear, as he bounded into the river water and sprawled around in the water, soaking his fur immensely and not only cleaning him, but also healing him and filling him with new vigor. Arthur could only laugh at the sight.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" He asked with just a bit of joy in that sentence, and the bear stood on its hind legs, showing off that he had been healed. "Good job!"

Alfred roared as he fell back, creating a great splash and standing up quickly. He shook the water from his body, and bounded over in just four steps to the blond with a happy expression on his face.

The shorter male instantly realized what he was doing. "Alfred, no, don't you dare!" He tried to back away and escape in the air, but his warning came too late, and he soon found himself being thrown into the air and high into the air. A scream of surprise and fear filled the air, and he plummeted down to the ground, wings immobile and expecting to be splattered on the ground, but warm arms caught him before that could happen, and he found himself gazing into pale scarlet eyes instead of blue, found he had landed in hands and not paws, and discovered that what had been the bear before was now a grinning Alfred, holding him above the ground with his legs over his left arm and his back against the right. "A-Alfred!" He gasped in shock, and blinked several times to see if this was just some fantasy. "B-b-but, how—I don't-"

"Arthur," he stopped the Brit from talking as he placed the blond back on the ground, taking his hand and bringing it close to his face so he could gently place a kiss upon it. "Thank you for healing me."

The ability to form words came back to him, and he shook himself out of his daze and smiled. "Of course, Alfred. Y-you're welcome."

Alfred, somewhat distracted by the hand he held, looked first at their hands, and then up into his jaded eyes with a gaze that contained an emotion Arthur hadn't seen before. "Beautiful?"

"Hm…" He glimpsed down at their hands as the demon dropped his, and then fixed his stare back up into the eyes that he had fallen for so long ago. "Whot is it?"

"Remember when I told you I was going to give you the best time you'll ever witness?"

Not knowing where the talk was going, he nodded his head hesitantly. "Yes. Of course I do. Whot about it?"_ That look of his…_

"Well…I was thinking…maybe we can do that now?" The words were an overpowering statement, and just as the blond discovered what that look was, just as he was going to answer, their lips- after so long of being interrupted, after so long of having distractions, after so long of having interferences- Alfred gently took the sides of Arthur's face, tilted his head in, and placed the most graceful kiss upon his unsuspecting lips.


	18. Passion

**Who's ready for some fail smuttttt~~~? :D You are, faithful readers! XDDD**

**No, not really. You're not. :/**

**Okay, so apparently, as some of you might remember, I am completely self-conscious whenever I write. So, I have been known to restart stuff a thousand times. Plus, I have never "done it" with anyone. I mean, I'm still in high school for God's sake (this is where everyone stops reading and leaves XDDDD DX). I've never had sex. And when I write, I write from a bit of experience. _THIS_ time, however, I am _not_ writing of experience. I tried to make it seem like you were experiencing what Artie was, but I'm pretty sure I failed. I also think I made Arthur too..._uke_ and weak at times. I didn't want that. I just wrote down what I saw, sooo yeah. I'm just gonna hide in the corner and just...write some cardverse or something XD I love ittttt!**

**So, IDEK how this turned out. All I know is that I don't own a damn thing besides the plot. Hidekaz Himaruya owns them. I just daydream of two sexy as hell countries...and nakedness...and a bed.**

**So, enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 18:<p>

Passion

Arthur had never experienced a kiss on the lips. When he was ten, he had a peck on the cheek from a pretty, smart blond girl named Charlotte, who was just like him- an outcast- but then he had wiped it off and said he didn't like the feeling. She had gone off to find more friends, and Arthur had ran home crying that afternoon, telling his mother how he hadn't liked that a girl had kissed him and how he had let his only friend go away from him. As he got older, he discovered Charlotte had liked him since they had met in their second year of school, and wanted to have a little boyfriend, but he had never been satisfied with a girl's kiss if she wasn't family. However, he did want someone to love, and although he believed he was going to turn asexual, he discovered during his first year in university that the male body was actually…attractive to him. He had never had a relationship, had never actually found someone that made his heart thump hard in his chest.

And if it hadn't been for his death in the London Blitz, and then his kidnapping seventy years later, he would have never found his heart. Because as soon as his mouth had been contacted with the demon's, a twister of emotions fluttered around inside him, swirling every which way to its own rhythm. _Wh-whot is this? I-I…_ He had kept his eyes open through the kiss, standing there with his hands sheepishly twisting in front of him, his face bright red, and not knowing what to do about the action. Alfred had shut his eyes, gently taking one of the angel's hands and intertwining their fingers with no problem at all, giving a squeeze to the other's hand. The blond hummed into the peck, and waited for the taller to break apart from him, and unexpectedly gaze at him with disappointment.

"Did you like my kiss?" He questioned childishly, still keeping their hands together. Arthur found himself stumbling over words, trying to find the right ones.

_S-should I lie to him, o-o-or tell him…it was the best sensation I've ever felt? _"I-I, well…i-it was very nice," he confirmed slowly, and took a tiny step closer to the other. "I-It's just…I-I-"

"You don't have to lie." The American had said the words so quietly and shyly, the Brit almost didn't hear him. "Y-you can just tell me that…you don't like me like that." They sounded so sad and depressed, and just looking into the pale scarlet eyes that were so heartbroken in the assumption that that hadn't been what he wanted broke his heart into a million pieces.

He huffed in irritation. _This is ridiculous. Ever since I arrived here I've doubted both him and myself. I can't keep on doing this. If I do, I…I don't know where I'll end up next._ He tried to keep a gaze with the other, and failed to even look into his eyes. _Well, fuck this then; I'm not going to put up with any of this shit anymore!_ And with that final thought and a new determination, he placed his hands on either side of the demon's face, pulled it close to his, and placed his lips on Alfred's in need, this time with his green eyes hidden and his response clear and known. He let out a soft yet cautious moan as their heads both tilted slightly and his hands travelled to around the demon's neck, giving a slight jump when a pair of hands landed on his side and pulled him closer than they already were. A tongue poked at his lips, and he opened them, allowing the muscle to search around the cavern and lick every possible surface inside, sliding over the other cautious tongue, all of their movements gradual and careful and so gentle with each other, as if they were going to break if handled too roughly. _Ah…there we are._ He gave a sigh in contentment. _I've waited too long for this…I should have done this sooner._

The two separated for air, a thin line of spit connecting their mouths together before it broke apart, and Arthur panted, quietly staring into the pale red eyes he had fallen for long ago. Alfred was grinning, breathing somewhat shakily, and laughed. "Arthur," he had only said his name and the Englishman was already starting to get excited, "you really do-"

"Wait," he began, pressing their foreheads together gently. The other quieted down politely, the eagerness remaining on his features. "I cannot express how much I adore you, how much I love you, or how much I want to be with you for the rest of my existence. Because I adore you, I love you more than I can both know and hold, and I want to be with you for eternity." The American laughed quietly, his grin at its widest. "So I'm going to kiss you again. And that kiss will have every part of yearning and love I have inside it, alright?"

Alfred didn't give a response and instead slid their mouths and lips over one another as soon as the other was done talking. The blond just pushed against the mouth and groaned, legs shaking slightly from the exertion of putting every single piece of feeling and emotion into the kiss. He allowed his hand to slip up into the back of the demon's hair, intertwining itself through the tresses and moaning. Alfred had them extremely and wonderfully close to each other, one arm around the guardian's middle with his hips sliding against Arthur's and pulling out whines and more hand-to-body contact, fingers sliding over the angel's body and through the demon's hair, both with a want of need and desire for the other. When they broke apart, still keeping eye contact, the Englishman swallowed, and his mood suddenly became nervous.

"I-I've never had sex before," he admitted in a quiet voice. "So please…forgive me if I'm horrible."

The demon only chuckled, eyes crinkling in the slightest that made him seem even more irresistible than before. "Ah, my Angel," he sighed quietly, placing quick kisses upon his mouth and then down his neck, "my Beautiful," kiss, "my Precious," kiss, "my Flawless Beauty," kiss, "I could never ever be mad at you, no matter what may happen."

Arthur, already a mess and practically sobbing from their contact and the pecking, pulled Alfred's face up so that he could gaze into the pale eyes once again. "I-I need you."

_Kiss._ Their lips lingered together several times, missing the interaction too much to leave, and they found themselves devouring the other's mouth as if in deprivation. It was a wonder how they managed to keep apart for a few seconds longer, just for the shorter to moan out quietly and whisper:

"I-I want you…I want you badly."

More kisses, becoming more heated and so frequent that their time to inhale air was immense and always brought them back a few seconds later, before the thought of receiving air was abandoned and they were licking inside one another's mouth, tasting the wonderful new taste they had discovered. The Briton sighed as the demon's mouth took a new direction when they came up for air, and allowed the American to deck his neck out in kisses and licks.

"I-I love you…And I want you to own every part of my body…as I own every part of yours. O-oh, _God-_" He leaned his head back to feel more of the wet sensation on his throat, mewling as the tongue smoothed over the curve and the dip at the end of his neck that led to his collarbone, and nearly cried out in pleasure when a particular stroke followed by a nibble had him arching backwards and hitching a leg up to wrap it around the demon's. "Alfred…I need you…I want you…and I love you…"

Alfred chuckled from his position, and swept the angel back into his arms swiftly. "I think we need a bit more privacy."

* * *

><p>The two hadn't even been through the door for more than a second, and their mouths were together, the angel moving his arms to pull at the nape of the other's neck, tasting and feeling around the demon's mouth. Alfred didn't waste his time walking, and flew to the bed, dropping Arthur from a low height and then following suit, mouths together and open as soon as he was in range. The Brit's fingers tumbled around in their designated paths, one deeply entangled into his hair and the other smoothing over the front of his body, running heated and eager fingers over his covered chest. Alfred chuckled as he momentarily broke away, kissing him again while fumbling with the blonde's white garment.<p>

"I wonder what you hide from me," he whispered into his ear, voice slightly husky as he ran his hands over the cloth-covered sides. Arthur hummed and sighed, and took the hands caressing him and directing them to the golden rope tie around his waist.

"Why don't you look then?" He smiled kindly, and the American had the rope and the garment off to the side in mere seconds. The demon's breath hitched, and his eyes traced over the creamy, smooth skin that lay in front of him.

"My God…," he placed a kiss on the angel's lips, greedily spreading his mouth over the other's, "you are so damn beautiful."

Arthur had never been a fan of his body at all- his limbs were too scrawny, his elbows and knees bony and sharp, skin too pale, too skinny for his liking- so it was natural for him to shrink away and try to hide (especially his partially-flaccid lower half that was quickly hardening) himself. "Do stop it, I'm nothing special," he mumbled, still looking out of the corner of his eye at the other.

"Arthur, don't be so humble." Their lips met again, and he searched inside his mouth for anything valuable, coming across another tongue and toying with it as it slid around him. The Englishman moaned, pulling apart from him for a quick second before they placed butterfly kisses on one another's lips.

"Wh-whot about you?" He tugged on the other's leather jacket, sliding it off the other's shoulders and halted a bit when he was met with a single layer, just on top of his abdomen and torso. "U-um…you don't mind if I…"

Alfred chuckled, eyes crinkling once again. "Of course not."

The shirt was nearly ripped off his body in the guardian's haste, and he stopped as his eyes met the tan plain, the curves of his pectoral muscles and the faint inclination just beneath that. He took a careful hand and, testing his reactions, drew various patterns and searches. Alfred leaned forward and nuzzled into his collarbone, groaning into him and nipping the skin. Arthur let out a moan and leaned backwards, still exploring the chest but allowing the demon to have more access to his neck. The former all but dived forward, licking upon the skin hungrily, planting kisses and bites and pecks over the expanse of perfect skin that lay in front of him. But too soon, he abandoned the throat and connected their mouths impeccably, breaths erratic and drumming into the other's ears. The blond hummed in satisfaction, tangling their legs together and thrusting his hips upwards. They broke apart for air, both panting as Arthur brushed his hips against the rough jeans. "Alfred…" _Kiss, kiss._ "I-I need you _now_."

Alfred offered three of his fingers. "Suck on these, first," he offered breathlessly. "It'll help." The blond cautiously took the wrist and pressed them against his tongue, slicking the digits up carefully. The dark-haired male slowed a bit in his movements and shuddered with an exhale, but then proceeded to press kisses and pecks down his throat, and trailed down so that the Brit could barely see him in the dim light of the room, only that silly cowlick that stuck up and his arm, but nothing more. But he could feel him, and as he was lathering the fingers up, he halted in his movements when something nice and wet and most definitely a tongue wrapped around one of the two nubs on his chest.

"A-ahhh~! Alfre'~!" His cry was muffled from the fingers he held in his mouth, but he nonetheless bent forward and whimpered, wanting more than what was happening right now, and took the fingers out of his mouth. "Alfred, please, not now!" He begged, also using his eyes and giving his hips a good shove upwards. He was too inexperienced (having never had a real love interest), but he _ached_ to have anything intimate.

Alfred took his hand back and placed a gentle kiss upon his forehead, leading down to capture his plump lips. Arthur pressed against him urgently, spreading his hand sideways-to-upwards into the jet-black locks and lightly pulled, twirling the soft locks around his fingers and giving interested sighs. However, an exhalation became a cry of surprise when a finger entered _right there_ and wiggled around. He moved away to pant out, and cram his eyes shut tautly. The demon pressed kisses to his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, his ear, trying to calm him down and whispering sweet nothings like "It'll be alright, my Precious Angel", and "You're so beautiful, my Flawless Beauty", and repeatedly breathing "Arthur, Arthur, my Arthur, Arthur, my lovely gorgeous Arthur" and other words into his ear, saying his name like a chant. The blond, still trying to contain his breathing, looked into the pale eyes that were covered in love and desire and lust and passion that seemed to overtake them both.

"Alfred, Alfred my lovely, my dear, my wonderful, my lu-_ahh_~!" The Englishman leaned his head backwards as another finger was added and slowly started to spread apart from the other. The two digits nudged deep inside him, swirling around and probing for something but making the blond tear up and to moan.

"Keep…k-keep holding on, Arthur." _Kiss_. "My Beautiful, my Lovely, my Gorgeous, my Arthur." He snuggled his face into his neck, pressing a peck into it before sitting up and gazing into his eyes. "Is it hurting too much?"

Arthur, breathless, body tingling with pleasure and slight pains in the lower half of his body, shook his head. "N-nothing I-I can't endure." He gulped, and panted for air once again. "M-my death was w-w-worse than thi-this."

The American quirked an eyebrow up, and gave a rise of his mouth up that spread halfway across his face. "I want to know more about my Arthur, please."

"_Ahhhh~!_" His head craned backwards once again when another finger dug inside him, this time his emotions overpowering him and causing him to drop tears out slowly, careening down his face but only to be kissed away with whispers and promises and the kindness that was Alfred. He used his thumb to rid anymore, and started to slowly stroke his face with his free hand, the other burrowing inside of him and causing him to arch off the bed and cry out.

"Shhh, it's alright." The gentle and calm voice of Alfred rang to him, and he trusted the words, hearing them and taking them to their very core. "Just a bit more, just a little bit more, Precious. I promise, just hold on, Arthur."

Suddenly, a burst of pleasure lit up in his stomach, exploding in bursts of light in front of his vision and waves of tingling nerves that shook him to his core and brought him to a calmer yet craving state. As soon as he regained a bit of control over his breathing, the fingers were removed from inside of him, and the demon lathered his own hand in spit again, before he pulled Arthur closer and they nuzzled close to one another, the blond sighing into his ear and now laying his own kisses on the body. He planted the pecks on his nose, his cheeks, his lips, his neck, his collarbone, before the demon gently cupped his chin and placed a tender kiss on the awaiting mouth. The Brit responded just as careful and just as loving, sighing into him as he wound his arms around his neck to pull him closer.

But as soon as he detected the tip of something large and foreign and strange and _oh dear Lord whot the hell is that?_, his breath hitched and he couldn't hold back the scream that hurtled itself out of his mouth, followed by dry heaving that shattered the peaceful atmosphere around them. Alfred decked him out in kisses and adoration as he continued to push in, assuring the blond that "everything will be alright, Beautiful, I promise" before he was fully inside him, the Englishman nearly in hysterics. And the only thing the demon could assume was he had done something horribly wrong. "Angel? Angel, w-what's wrong? T-tell me!"

"It hurts so fucking much." The tears were coming out steadily, dropping off down his cheeks and throat, hot and warm against his skin. He glanced at the other through his tears. "I-I-I know you can't c-c-control this very well, b-but please, luv…h-how do you make it nice again?" The intrusion was too rough and hard for him, and he didn't like it one bit, not when he had been (past tense) a virgin and the organ inside of him was aching and twitching and leaving—

"I'm sorry, we'll just stop for now, okay Angel? We can just talk, o-or do something else, I don't mind as long as it's with y-" The demon had started to remove himself from inside of him, but the blond male's eyebrows furrowed, and he gripped the hips and thrust them back inside again, causing another rip of a scream to come out from his mouth. And it took a few (read: several) seconds before he could finally speak again.

"Th-th-there is no way…y-you are l-leaving me." Once again, he struggled to catch his breath. "I-I-I want this…I want _you_…a-and I n_-need_ you ins-side." _Gulp; pant, pant._ "A-and I love you. I love you so damn much, a-and I just w-wanna be with you and…o-oh _God._"

Alfred started to slowly thrust inside of him, starting out slowly and lingering a bit longer before he withdrew and drove back in. His face was partially scrunched up, as if he was trying to hold back and not harm him, and he groaned, leaning down to push another quick kiss along his mouth. "K-keep…going."

The demon started up a steady pace, the same spot that had caused the wonderful rush of pleasure from before returning, and the angel lost himself in pallid scarlet, breathing rapid with both of his hands intertwined behind his neck. The hands leaning on his waist were gentle yet firm, and he shoved his lower half in that direction, suddenly wanting more as the pain lessened up, still recognizable but the wonderful thrust of in and out, the sounds being drowned out as they were the only two in existence, only Alfred and only Arthur. The Englishman leaned their foreheads together, sending his breath onto lips and repeatedly reciting Alfred's name over and over again, as if he was being threatened with death. The thrusts became faster, and he was responded in an equal way, causing the bed to move with them and to groan under the exertion it was given. Breaths echoing and ringing, eyes not losing contact, they continued to pleasure each other continuously before Arthur couldn't hold back anymore and shoved himself down one last time before his mouth formed an O and he sighed shakily, gasping for air as he finally reached the end, a warm liquid staining his chest and his lover. Alfred didn't last much longer as well, only giving one thrust before he also slowly released, filling the Brit's insides with the substance and causing him to mewl in satisfaction.

The two, Angel and Demon, madly in love with each other, now relaxed from the rush of intercourse. Arthur captured the pair of lips, most likely already bruised from being attacked so many times, as Alfred cautiously eased out, depriving the angel of the feeling inside of him. However, as soon as the latter was out, they enveloped each other in hugs and gently kissed the other, sending him the signal that he was madly in love with him, and he wanted to forever be in his arms.

"Did you enjoy yourself, my Precious?" Alfred whispered, pressing another kiss to his forehead.

"Of course I did," Arthur sighed, humming at the peck. "I was with you."

Sleep pulled the two down into their own abyss of peace and love, and they lay beneath the covers of the bed, in an embrace that made them feel like they were everything, because to them, they were, slipping off once again to their world.


	19. Change

**Bueno~~~! :D Did you love the smexy times? I know I did! Not!**

**Ahaha~ I'm sorry, I'm my worse critic. But I'm glad you liked it! :D**

**Okay~, so! A lotta stuff happens in this chapter. This is probably my...least favorite one probably. Maybe. I dunno. There are a few that I'm like "why the hell did I write this o_O" but yeah. This is when shit really starts to happen. Like, it SEEMS all good and fine, at first, but then it's just like LOL BUUUUURN and you're just left here with a chainsaw and a crazy look in your eyes to kill the author.**

**Heh, I tried to apply the skill of Steven Moffat AKA the god who writes Doctor Who, which is this incredible TV show that I love with all my heart- (I'm a Whovian and a Hetalian~ :D), and he's one of my inspirations for suspense because, he not only can turn a LALALALALAAAA HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY moment to a DOOOOOOOOOM one, but! Also because he is notorious (spelt it wrong) for ending an episode and leaving you with a damn cliffhanger and you literally scream at the television GOD MOFFAT WHYYYYY! WHY MOFFAT WHYYYYYY. And plus he is, in the Ninth Doctor's words, fantastic! Or, in the Tenth's, brilliant! :D Davidddddd... :drool: **

**Sorry...XDDD No I'm not.**

**But yeah, that's what I did for all of last season. Screamed Moffat's name at the TV just because. Even if he didn't write the episode. But he's just fantastic and awesome and I'm just going to stop now because you're all probably like "uhhh what's Doctor Who" and I'll just sit here. In a pair of shorts and a Queen (band) t-shirt. At midnight. Heh, midnight. "My name's Jethro" "My name's Jethro"**

**So! I own nothing, as usual -_- I only own the plot. Hidekaz Himaruya owns the characters. And, I am terribly sorry for Yao, by the way. I just wanted some NiChu. :3 So, just, as usual:**

**Enjoy~!**

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><p>Chapter 19:<p>

Change

"So…you two finally did it aru."

The next morning, after countless kisses and compliments and cuddling, Alfred and Arthur had visited Kiku and Yao once again, the former saying there were still a few things he had to tell the Japanese demon. The Brit didn't mind very much, besides the fact that his backside ached something terrible (which was treated with care and even more kisses, which led to some…rather good snogging, afterwards that both of them thoroughly enjoyed), and was quite happy to be going with him. Kiku and Alfred were above the two angels, gliding above their heads while Yao and Arthur walked and talked on the dirt ground beneath.

The Brit had been smiling ever since he had started explaining what had happened after he had cared for the American, all the way to the love-making, as he referenced to it. "Sex" was not quite the right word for what they did. But the smile refused to stray away from his face, even though there was still a bit of pain down south, in his...well, that area.

"And it was wonderful," Arthur sighed, looking up at Alfred with a dreamy look on his face. "He was so gentle and kind and made sure I was alright- he also pulled out because he didn't want to harm me, but, Yao…it was the best experience of anything that I've ever had."

The Chinese angel furrowed his eyebrows together. "Hm…and you're happy that you did…that, right?" He wondered. "You don't regret it?"

"Of course I am!" The blond angel looked at him with wide eyes. "Why wouldn't I be?" Why would Yao ask a question like that? Did he not _look_ happy? Was _Yao_ not happy with Kiku?

The regret was easily seen in his eyes, and he looked at the Brit sadly. "I-I'm just worried aru. In four days we could…be gone from here, o-or dead."

Arthur felt his footsteps slow a bit, and his friend mimicked his movements. He, too, had been worrying about the now four days left he had left before…well, he didn't quite know. Before a decision was made and his life could possibly change. He tried not to dwell on it, for it made him think several times that he would be taken away from Alfred, or vice versa. And he would rather die with his demon by his side, holding his hand as they disappeared for eternity (or whatever happened to the already-dead) than be separated from him. Because who knew when he would be able to see him again?

Yao gulped, and took a step towards him, grabbing his hands and rubbing his thumbs over the top of them like he always did when he was trying to reassure someone of something. His wings looked like they could be pulled off at any second, and he suddenly seemed too fragile, as if at any moment he was just going to break into millions of pieces like a broken china doll. "Arthur, I need you to listen to me for a second aru." The blond blinked and waited, giving a reassuring squeeze of their intertwined hands. "Kiku says now that we've been warned to be changed, the tamer Harvesters are going to be on the lookout for us. So as soon as that demon Ivan comes again, he says he's going to convert me right then and there, and go into hiding until everything is sorted out aru."

Whatever was left of the Brit's confidence disappeared as the words echoed in his head and tears started to prick at his eyes. _N-no…no, no, no, no…not Yao. Not now. This can't be…_ "Y-Yao…a-are you sure?"

The Chinese angel whimpered, and nodded, giving a sad sniff. "I don't have much energy anyway. My wings are beyond repair, my halo is practically in two, that glow we have is too dim to see anymore, my body is sluggish most of the time aru. There never was a chance for me to survive."

"Kiku didn't have to hurt you like this." He said this in a quiet, nearly inaudible voice, but he knew his friend had heard him.

"Kiku didn't have to love me to hurt me." The dark-haired male glanced above him, and smiled at the two demons floating above his head. "There's both an upside and a downside to this aru. As a demon, I can stay by Kiku's side for as long as I wanted to. As an angel," his eyes focused on the Englishman, and the words and look in those golden eyes of his broke his heart into pieces, "I can be by yours."

Arthur sniffed, wiping under his eye with his finger. "Don't be so…mushy. You're still here."

Yao smiled and chuckled, and then embraced him gently, the Brit returning and trying to avoid touching his wings. "Oh, Arthur. I don't know when it'll happen aru…But when it does, I'm goig to miss you so much."

"Me as well." _Sniff._ "You're always going to be my friend, no matter whot may happen."

"Beautiful?"

The two separated when the demon's voice was detected from behind the blond. "Are you okay, Delicate Rose?" Alfred worriedly asked him, wings dipped down in depression. The Brit smiled and let himself be enveloped by the strong arms surrounded by the leather, and buried himself inside the warmth.

"I'm just fine, Dear Poppet," he assured the American, petting the side of his face affectionately and pressing a kiss against his forehead. "Just a bit saddened, is all."

The American pressed a kiss to his cheek, and raised his chin. "I don't like to see you sad, though. Come on." He managed a small smile, and connected their foreheads. "Smile for me."

Arthur's lips raise upwards ever so slightly, and a small chuckled slipped out as well. "My smile always will be for you, Luv."

He giggled as if he were a child, and nuzzled their noses together. "I'll love you for an eternity."

"_Privet,_ comrades~!"

The smell was the first thing that set him off, and a tower of fear encased around him, making him feel as frightened as ever and helpless despite the arms that shrouded him. A deep growl sounded from Alfred, rumbling against his ear and causing him to burrow into the coat even more. "Get the fuck away, Ivan," the American mumbled. "You don't belong here."

"Hm?" He tilted his head in curiosity. "Why not? Aren't I allowed to, _Amerikanskiĭ_?"

"I said, you don't belong here." Arthur nuzzled himself further into the jacket and the smell of coffee beans and safety, the arms tightening slightly.

The Russian demon pouted. "You're no fun. I want to play with de beautiful angel, _da_? I dought you were of de country of freedom."

The Brit whimpered and buried inside his lover even more. Soft shushing came from above him, and he hid his face into the crook of Alfred's neck. "You'd think I'd let you near him?"

"Who said anyding about dat? Haven't you heard of taking what you need?"

"You touch Arthur and I'll stab you through the eye." The darkness of his tone frightened the blond to no end, and he gulped before forcing the American to look him in the eye.

"Alfred, don't resort to his level," he whispered to him. There was a small bit of fear inside of him; just the very thought of losing his lover to uncontrollable anger killed him. "You just…s-stay by my side and keep him away, alright? You don't have to be violent towards anybody."

Alfred blinked, running his hand under his chin and eyeing the Englishman with enough care and love to make one melt.

"_Amerikanskiĭ~_, I'm going to take de angel away from you if you don't listen to me~!" The taller demon smiled psychotically, but his tone was a dark one.

"Alfred, don't," Arthur pleaded, forcing his lover to face him. "Do not fight him. You don't need to. Just stay here, with me."

"_Amerikanskiĭ~_! Comrade~!"

"Alfred, Poppet."

The taller looked from one to the other, and then made his decision by kissing the blond male on the lips gently and quickly, but slow enough to savor the taste of him. "I won't fight him," he whispered. "I need to keep control of myself."

Arthur, seeing a small bit of the usual Alfred, smiled a tiny bit. "Thank you, Dearest."

Chastely, their mouths met carefully, and the demon lifted the guardian angel up into the air, twirling him around and bringing out laughs from the Englishman.

"_Amerikanskiĭ~_! Give me de angel now, _požalujsta_," the Russian growled, taking a step towards them.

"I don't need you to tell me what to do!" He snapped with a devious grin, holding the angel close to him and glancing up at him from his slight height advantage. "All I need to do is stay by his side."

Arthur found himself blushing faintly, and smiled, holding the side of his face and laughing lightly. "You just being alive…that is fine by me, my Lovely Dear."

Ivan, who had gone unnoticed, snorted, and bent forward so quickly that he was already the same bear from yesterday by the time he landed. The blond noticed this, and a wave of panic arose in him while he was still being cooed and nuzzled at.

"Alfred, watch out!" He cried out, trying to alert Alfred, tapping his shoulder and attempting to avert his attention. However, the latter only laughed.

"What's wrong, Beautiful~? You don't have to be afraid of anything~!"

"No, Alfred, not that, _bear!_"

_Wham!_ The bear was suddenly gone and to the side as his lover had turned. Yao was holding the bear down the best he could, straining to keep him away from the couple. Ivan roared and tried to turn over from his back onto his stomach, but the extremely wounded and weak angel struggled even harder, pushing against the Russian bear to keep him down.

"Yao!" Arthur tried to jump over Alfred's shoulder and to his friend, who had a new wound on his left shoulder, pushing the animal to the ground, but before he realized it, the Russian bear lifted the Chinese angel up by his feet and tossed him about fifteen feet away, flat on his back, and unmoving. "_Yao!_"

Arthur was too quick for Alfred as he leaped over the pair of arms and over to his nearly-dead friend. Kiku was already there and lifting the limp body as the swarm of demons started to be seen from the air, the Brit paying them no heed as he got beside the Chinese angel.

"Yao, Yao; can you hear me?" He tried to get his attention, holding his face gently between each hand. His lover landed beside him, carefully holding his shoulders and silent. "Oh dear God Yao. Whot the hell were you thinking?"

Golden eyes gazed up into emerald with half-revealing eyelids, a soft groan and a nuzzle into palms following after that. "I…I-I needed you to be happy aru…," he whispered, and reached up to grab the other's hands. "I wouldn't have been able to bear it if your lover wasn't by your side…I wouldn't be able to see you so sad aru…"

Arthur held back tears and pressed their foreheads together, eyes shut. "You're crazy…and yet you are the best friend I've ever had." He placed a gentle kiss atop where his head had been, smoothed the silky black locks out of his face. "I'll miss you."

Yao made a sound similar to a laugh as they parted. "I won't be gone aru. I'll still be right here."

The blond blinked and sniffed, a single tear gliding down his cheek. "Wh-whot do you mean?"

Before the weak angel could answer, the first few bloodlust demons closer than ever and more landing nearby, having smelled the spilling of angel blood, Kiku leaned down and dug his teeth into the flawless neck. Yao gasped quietly, as if in wonder, and Arthur, acting on instinct, tried to push the other demon away but failed. Strong arms lifted the Briton up and started to haul him away, but he would have none of that.

"Alfred, _stop _it, he's hurting him! We have to get him away, we have to stop him!" He hollered, trying to worm his way out of the grip. "Let me _go_, Alfred, _please!_"

Alfred gave him no explanation, no answer, and lifted him up into his arms so that his legs wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck, flapping his wings before getting into the air. Arthur kicked furiously, but nonetheless he was held close as he was brought farther and farther from Yao's loud, pained scream and the sound of something shredding apart. His arms were draped around his neck, and he was pushed in even farther into the other's chest as if he was a baby koala.

"Alfred, _please_, let me go back and help him! I'm _beg_ging you, luv! Poppet, _please,_ turn around!"

However, despite his loud sobbing and his trembling, the two parted even farther and farther from the previous scene, and before Arthur even realized it, he had stopped fighting and resigned to his fate, going for weeping and nuzzling into his neck for comfort, receiving warmth and rubs and pecks and kisses and love in return.

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><p>Alfred didn't stop flying until they were far away enough from the disaster, on a smaller mountain than the Mountain of the Three Fates that Arthur recognized. He didn't really care where they were at this point; he was tired, he was upset, he was angry. But most of all, he was desperate, desperate for his demon to wrap him in his arms and kiss away his wounds and tell him that everything alright, just so he could go to sleep. He wanted to, had tried to when he had been brought here, but he found he was too alert, too aware of his surroundings in able to relax. Maybe wherever they had ended up would help him.<p>

The demon sat him down in a small opening that led to a large cavern, as if the door was hiding the hideout from others. He set the Brit down cautiously, giving him gentle connections of lips to forehead and nose and cheek and mouth. As he did, his arms moved beside him, and when he was done with that, a soft hand started to slowly stroke his cheek, pushing a lock of hair away when it got in front of his wandering fingers.

"Are you tired, Gorgeous?" He whispered, pressing a kiss behind his ear. Arthur hummed, body feeling like lead, and nodded honestly. "Here;" he gently placed his bomber jacket around the blonde's arms, "you go and rest, okay Flawless Beauty?"

"Why are you giving me this?" He wondered in a quiet voice, eyes unable to stay open any longer. Another caress to his forehead, and his mind fogged over as he could finally relieve himself of stress.

"You just rest, Beautiful. I love you."

In what seemed so long ago since he had done so, Arthur dreamed of Alfred again.

It started out in a different way this time. His whole body was trembling, and hot tears were coating his cheeks for some reason that he didn't know. In front of him was a trembling boy with blond hair, a stray little cowlick sticking up in front of his hairline to defy gravity. The jacket was extremely familiar to the one he had worn, instantly recognizing the fleece on the collar and the airplane on the side. He bent down in front of the body, ignoring the strange cackling that was behind him. This couldn't be Alfred. "L-luv…," he whispered. "Luv, my Darling Love, look at me."

A whimper sounded from the body in front of him, and as he raised his head to look at him, Reality Arthur mimicked his sound. The blue eyes he saw instead of red, as beautiful as the sky as they were, they weren't the Alfred that he knew. It was no doubt that this was the demon he had fallen in love with just a week and a couple of days ago. The plump lips, the angled nose, the cowlick, the presence, the compliments and words he spoke.

"My Arthur," he whispered, voice trembling slightly. "My Gorgeous, my Beautiful, my Delicate Rose, my Flawless Beauty." The blue-eyed blond weakly reached for his hand, and received that and a kiss atop it as well. "I am so sorry, Lovely."

"Why are you apologizing, Poppet?" He murmured, and leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips, giving a light and nearly inaudible moan. "This wasn't your fault."

"But I'm making you cry." Non-demon Alfred gently intertwined their hands together. "I never liked seeing you cry." His voice was smooth and even like a calm river, while a few tears escaped out of his eyes. Dream Arthur whimpered, withholding a sob. Reality Arthur, if he could properly think, was practically drowning.

_Wh-whot the hell is this?_ He wondered to no one. _Why am I dreaming this? I can't be! _He wanted to say that this wasn't his Alfred, he didn't look like his love, but he certainly was, there was no doubt about it, and he wouldn't and couldn't say those words. The angel's body shifted, allowing the other to lean against him sluggishly. "Do you think you'll be taken away?" His voice cracked at the end, a fist to a weak shard of glass. _Oh no you don't. Don't start, please!_

Confirming his fears, Alfred nodded with a sad sniffle. "Th-they're probably going to take me back to the Surface." He kissed the other's hand that was tangled with his. "B-but not without a fight."

"If you fight, Alfred, if you don't let them take you away from me…," he gazed down at the wheat-haired boy that seemed too young, "then I won't let them take me away from you."

The American smiled and sighed, resting his head against his stomach. "I'll stay right beside you forever, Beautiful."

But suddenly, once again, Alfred was wrenched away roughly and dragged away with hardly any effort. And Arthur once again instantly dove forward to stop them. "NO! _Don't take him away from me!_" He screamed, and a small surge of pride dwelled within him as his lover thrashed around, managing to break free hastily and get to him. "Alfred, _help!_" The angel tried to move his limbs free, only getting both arms but unfortunately not his lower body, and was flung over a shoulder. "ALFRED!" He reached and strained to get their fingers to touch, and he found them brushing against one another. Alfred jumped, trying to gain air, but fell down on his feet again, not having the wings support him like usual. He quickly reached forward, fingers stretching as he tried to grab his hand. Eventually, their hands slipped together just as Arthur's captors reached the exit, and the Brit was dragged away and into the leather embrace, instantly wounding his arms around his waist.

"I'm never letting go," Alfred whispered in his ear. "I'm never letting go of you, I promise." He pecked the top of his blond hair, barely touching the wounded halo- _since when did it start to break?_- and let out a breath. "You'll stay right here with me."

Arthur watched the Powers Rank angels, how they chatted amongst each other before rotating around, grabbing Alfred under his armpits, and flinging him to the ground behind them, before lifting him up again and taking him away from his lover. "_Alfred! Alfred, help!_" The American, his human body not used to the pain, rolled over to his side, trying to crawl quickly, but missed by just a few inches. "_ALFRED!_"

"It's okay, Beautiful, I'm right here!"


	20. Past

**Okay, so first. I'm sorry for now updating this in a week and a half. Ugh...I got busy with school, because I am the worse procrastinator but the work I do is perfect and impeccable most of the times (I realized today I had typed "penis" instead of "plains" somehow...).**

**Now second. My printer decided to be all "I don't wanna print your works cited page, meeeeh!" and I actually had to drive to my aunt's house where I print out the papers there(her poodle cried at me because he's so needy and cuddly and whines if he's not pet...effing adorableee! I'm the dog whisperer, by the way).**

**And third. I am extremely exhausted. I'm usually not, but it's nearly**

**So, anyways, did you have a great birthday for Iggy? I was going to be so cool and post it on the 23rd AKA yesterday, but then my printer and then the note before this got deleted and all this other crap I don't wanna put.**

**So, I own nothing BUT (heh, look at that :P) Elizabeth (Britannia), William (Scotland), Maggie (Ireland), Dillan (North Ireland), and Charlie (Wales). I also own the Yorkies (not in reality, I have a wheaton terrier. Google it and die from the cuteness) because, well...I said so.**

**Also, sorry for so much UK slang. I love some of the words that the Irish come up with :) But yeah, if you need help defining it, I have a few websites, or you can ask me what they mean and I can define them for you, or you can Google it. Google is prusome. You should use it.**

**So, as usual, enjoy this (crappy and late) chapter :)**

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><p>Chapter 20:<p>

Past

"Arthur, it's okay, I'm here now! You don't have to cry anymore!"

Arthur had woken up to the too-young, soothing voice of the demon, and had practically shoved their bodies together, burying himself into the other's shoulder and shaking, just constant trembling and clutching as if he would float away. The tears had already departed from his eyes, once in a while one taking its journey down, but otherwise, the water tracks were evident and he attempted to catch his breath once again.

The two of them sat in a comfortable silence, the American slowly and soothingly rubbing his back through the leather jacket that was still on his body. The Brit sniffed, and sighed out as he did so, a bit while later finding the ability to form words once again.

"Y-y-you were there, a-and…," he took a breath, and then let it out, "w-we were- somewhere…"

A light kiss was pressed to his cheek, giving him reassurance and confidence and he released another breath.

"B-but…y-you weren't you, you were…a-a human, a-and blond, a-and your eyes were…like the sky, or…robin eggs, or a clear sapphire…"

Alfred's body tensed up slightly against him, and the angel nearly removed his chin from his shoulder to gaze at the scarlet, pastel eyes. But he stayed in his place with a falter, and continued.

"Y-you said something about being returned to the Surface, a-and then you were…th-thrown away from me." His voice started to crack at the edges, and a sob was released, a few more tears left over escaping. "Th-they took me away, other angels, they took me away from you and…w-we tried to see each other, w-we tried to get back, but w-we couldn't, a-a-and-"

"Shhh," he finally whispered, smoothing the ruffled hair back and down. The guardian obeyed him, sniffling as he let the chin rest underneath his shaggy blond head. "It's not real, Angel. It never will be. It was just a dream."

Arthur opened his mouth to question, him, but suddenly found a pair of lips on his. Not wanting to deny the kiss, he pushed back against him slightly, coating the demon's mouth with his tongue and feeling the rough canines and teeth that he was becoming used to. Gentle hands caressed his hips and he was moved forward, right onto his lap, where he gripped Alfred's upper arms and stroked invisible patterns over them. Their quiet moans filled up the cavern, echoing down the rest of the cave and being answered by more sounds of pleasure. The angel was able to divert his attention away from his mouth and to his throat, leaning his head back so that his lover could lick and nip at the The American instantly took the offer, smoothing his tongue and pursed lips all over the flawless skin as he moved his hands down to the blonde's lower back to support him easier.

"A-Alfred…," he sighed, holding the back of the caramel locks as if it were the head of a newborn, struggling to speak through the indescribable pleasure that overwhelmed his mind and made him think of sinful, lustful thoughts and dreams. "I-I want you to tell me…about you…before you were…a-a demon."

Alfred's eyes raised upwards and he moved away, shock sketched on his face. "Before I died?" He quietly whispered.

The Brit nodded. "Before you died and became a demon, whot were you like?"

The demon sniffed, his nose wiggling slightly, and he raised his shoulders, as if to hide away from him. "I don't want to…"

"Why not, luv?" He slowly started to stroke his cheek, a gentle and calm pattern as he gazed deep into the pale scarlet eyes. And yet despite the ministrations and a small shudder and sigh, he still shook his head.

"I don't like the story."

"You don't have to tell me, though. Maybe I can see it?" Angels had the ability to look inside another's mind and search through any secrets, experiencing each memory and emotion and feeling like a dream, seeing it and undergoing it as if it had happened to them. By now, both of the Brit's hands had floated up to go to his temples, but the American grabbed his wrists securely yet carefully and pulled them back down so that they folded into his lap.

"I don't want you to get hurt, Lovely." He tried to smile, but it was obvious that it was forced. "I know how you can look into my mind. But I want you to stay out."

"Alfred…" He looked down at his hands, and then back up at him. "I-I want to know _you_."

Alfred's lips rose up, and this time it was under their own will. "I do too, Beautiful." As soon as the smile was there, it disappeared. "But I don't want it to be painful."

"Then you can go inside mine." He moved his hands quickly and started to try and bring the callused yet smooth fingers to the side of his forehead, but the dark-haired male moved them away.

"Arthur…," he raised his chin so he could gaze perfectly into the emerald eyes and melt his heart, "no. I don't want to let you get hurt."

"Then I'll just…" Here, Arthur found himself dumbfounded. Not only did he have no idea what to say to that, he knew everything was true. If the angel let someone go through their memories, they lived through the experience again. And it was extremely difficult to end the session. Alfred, either way, was going to make sure he didn't go through with this. But Arthur was just as stubborn. "Poppet, please," he begged, encasing his lover's fingers with his own. "I want to do this. I won't break."

"But you're going to get hurt and I don't want you to, Lovely." He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. "It would be difficult for me to not do something about it."

"Luv, I promise you…it won't be bad for me. I can take it. I lived through it. Now please." He raised the fingers, kissing each of them, before he placed the tips of them against either temple and shut his eyes.

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><p><em>March 1920:<em>

"Hello, lovely," a soft voice broke through his dream, and three-year-old Arthur grinned up at her, reaching for his mother. Her hands slipped behind him and lifted him up, and he hugged her with his thin arms.

"Mummy~~~!" He exclaimed with a wide smile, eyes crinkling together and gripping around her neck. The woman, Elizabeth Kirkland, bounced him on one hip, and he wobbled up and down, letting the noise come out of his mouth as he giggled.

"Did you sleep well, my luv?" She wondered, brushing some of his hair back as she put him on two feet and held his hand to the bathroom down the hall.

"I had a dream!" He beamed wide and bright, as if it was the best thing since ice cream.

"Oh really?"

"Mhm!" Just like every morning, he stood in front of the toilet with his pants at his ankles and proceeded to do his business "It had unicorns aaand fairies aaaaand a flying bunny, aaaand another unicorn!"

Elizabeth laughed as he pulled his underwear back up and flushed the toilet, stretching on his tip-toes to turn the sink on and wash his hands. "That's wonderful, baby." She pressed a kiss on top of his head and he looked up, curiosity in his beautiful, bright green eyes.

"Mummy, do you have to leave?" He asked her. His mom worked as a secretary, a big word he didn't know much about yet. But he knew it was very important for her to go.

"Yes, lovely," she sighed, kneeling down to his level and smoothing his hair down. "Your brothers and sister will look after you, though, so you won't be lonely."

"I don't think they like me," he mumbled, toying with his shirt and looking at the ground.

"Of course they do, Arthur. They're just not used to a baby brother." The oldest Kirkland was thirteen, William, followed by twins Maggie and Dillan who were almost eleven and Charles, who was eight. Elizabeth held her hand out and he took it, gripping her fingers as they walked down the stairs to the kitchen. Arthur's mother lifted her up and placed him in his seat. "Maggie, darling, can you make your brother breakfast?"

"Wy do I have ta do it?" The ginger asked without even looking up at him in her light Irish accent that she had gained from her father. Arthur pouted.

"I want Maggie to make me breakky," he looked at his mother, and she sighed.

"Maggie, please, just make him something," she pleaded, and her only daughter groaned and got out of her chair, going to the oven and turning it on before getting out a pan and some bacon. "Thank you, luv." She placed a kiss on her forehead, and did the same to the youngest, who was using coloring utensils to draw a picture of some sort of mystical creature. "Be good, okay?"

"Okay, Mummy." "Sure."

As soon as Elizabeth walked out of the room to bid good-bye to her other sons, the redhead turned her head and glared harshly at the boy. "Yer a little shit, thinkin' ya got mum all in yer chubby lil' grasp," she muttered with a frown. Arthur looked up at her, waiting for a continuation in confusion. "Don't give me that look, yer lil' queer babby*****. We all know what yer tryin'."

"Whot?" He asked, glancing at his picture. "What's wrong, Magdie?"

"It's you, stupid rossie*****."

"Me?"

"Who else?" She lifted him up out of his seat and carried him to the other room, where Charles and William were working on work for school. Suddenly, she shoved Arthur onto the former's lap. "Here, ya two can take the little snotty babby. I'm busy."

"Maggie!" Charles cried out, but she was away from him in seconds, and he looked down at the green-eyed, puzzled toddler. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Arthur frowned, fidgeting in place. "I'm hungry."

"Ah, I'm in the middle of some important work right now, Artie. I can't feed you right now."

William, without saying a word, lifted his youngest brother up and brought him back upstairs, where he placed him in his bedroom and shut it, dragging a chair and propping it underneath the doorknob. Arthur, meanwhile, when he realized he was alone, began to cry, his loud sobs and snivels being heard outside of the house. He crawled back into bed and lay underneath the covers, wailing and bawling echoing as he curled himself into a tight ball, rubbing his tummy as it rumbled to be fed. He stuffed his face into his pillow, wanting his mum to come into the room and hold him and take care of him properly.

About two hours later, Charles, who was too engaged in his schoolwork, finally looked up as the cries reached his ears. He glared over at William, who was reading just across the room from him. Maggie was doing the same, taking notes every now and then. Dillan was in the kitchen, as told from the sounds being made. "Why is Arthur crying?" He asked.

"You're so slow, Charlie," his sister sneered. "Arthur's been in his room cryin' like a babby for a few hours now." The eight-year-old's olive-iris eyes widened.

"Why is he in his room?"

"He was botherin' ya, ri't?" The eldest butted in, looking at him over his book.

"No, he was fine, I-"

"Just leave him alone," Maggie rolled her eyes. "He'll be quiet in a little bit."

"He's only three, though! He's not like us!"

"Well _duh!_" Dillan poked his head in from the kitchen, and snickered. "I bet th' kid was dropped because Mum and Dad were so startled by that bloody ugly face of his!"

"You guys are so immature," Charlie shook his head, and finally stood up to attend to his brother. William stopped him from going any further, and tackled him to the ground. "Bloody hell, William!" He kicked his legs to free himself, the twin's uproarious laughter ringing in the room. "Let go of me!"

"Leave the damn kid alone!" The oldest roared, managing to hold his younger sibling on the ground by sitting on his waist. "If he stays in there, he won't bother us!"

"But he's crying like he's dying!"

"He's overreacting," the redhead female commented, and her look-alike nodded with a laugh.

"Yeah, Charlie, he just wants attention," he chuckled.

"He's bloody hungry, is what he is!" Charles managed to push William off him enough so that he could make it to the stairs. This time, it was his sister who yanked him down on his ankle and dragged him to the cellar.

"He's not bein' a bother on anyone but you, golden boy!" Maggie snapped, and opened the door to the cellar. William picked up Charles and tossed him down the stairs, twisting his leg in an unnatural way before they sealed the door with a chair.

The three oldest kids ignored their baby brother's sobs and cries, as well as Charles' weeping and whimpered pleas for help. About fifteen minutes later, the second-youngest was silent, and nearly two hours later and forty-five minutes later, so was the toddler. Finally, the household was in peace. William made lunch for his siblings, took some fruit to the one in the cellar and fed it to him while chatting about school work that still had to be done, the oldest offering to help him with it but being denied. He kept the light he had turned on the way it was, and then made his way upstairs again, closing the door halfway. No one went upstairs.

When Elizabeth came home to the house, about to call the kids, she stopped and looked around the room. Dillan, Maggie and William were all sitting in the same room and not saying a word, and both Charles and Arthur were nowhere to be found. It was a little suspicious. "Hello, luvs," the mother of five greeted the kids present. William and Maggie grunted their greeting, but Dillan looked up from a textbook and waved.

"Hi, Mum," he smiled. The style of it was a bit frightening, seeing as there was a mischievous flicker in his eyes and grin. "How was work?"

"Fine… Any of you want to tell me where your brothers are?"

"Charlie's in the cellar," the only sister of the boys motioned. "Hasn't come back up. May have broken his leg."

Instantly, their mother rushed to the door to the cellar, and looked down, where Charles was curled up at the bottom, seemingly sleeping by the even breaths he made. His left leg was contorted in a strange position, bending back and appearing broken. "Whot the bloody hell happened to him?"

"He fell down the stairs," William flatly stated.

Elizabeth's expression changed to fury. "Whot happened to Arthur?"

"Upstairs taking a nap."

She quickly rushed up the stairs to the bedrooms, and nearly screamed when she saw the chair blockading the door. "William Joseph Kirkland, there better be a good explanation for a chair in front of his door!"

"He was getting on our nerves, Mum! Kept on saying he was hungry!"

She was already in the room and cradling little three-year-old Arthur, who was unconscious with a slow pulse. Elizabeth shouted at her sons to get Charles out of the cellar and at Maggie to get some food at that instant before she would send them to their grandmother's until they reached university. The trio did as they were told, and as the eldest called for a doctor, their father, who worked in Parliament, arrived back home to his son with a broken leg and his youngest nearly dead from having no sort of food for nearly eight hours. By night, Arthur and Charles sat in silence, one with a broken leg and the other sipping on milk and eating while the older read bedtime stories to his little brother about King Arthur and his twelve knights of the Round Table, holding one side of his younger brother's head to his chest so that the youngest wouldn't hear the lashes their father gave to the three older siblings.

* * *

><p><em>1 October, 1927<em>

For three years, Arthur had a best friend named Charlotte, and she was rather similar to him: shy, reserved from the others, an outcast because of her smarts. She liked to spend time with the blond boy, and he liked to spend time with her. They were very respectful to one another, and shared secrets that no one knew of.

The sun was gently beating down on the kids as they left school, Charlotte and Arthur walking side by side and quietly chatting about what work had to be done. They were discussing a topic they were going to use for a project they were working on when she smiled and pressed a sweet kiss against his cheek. His eyes went a bit wide, and his eyebrows quirked up as he ran his three fingers over the mark. Charlotte blushed and looked away from him, shyly biting her lip.

"Did you like it?" She whispered him

It took a while for Arthur to respond, out of shock, and when he did, he gazed right into her brown eyes and shook his head. "No. I didn't like it. I'm sorry."

She stared at him for what seemed like forever, tears brimming her eyes, and she ran down the block to her house, scrambling up the steps and slamming the door. Instantly, he realized what he had done. He hadn't liked a kiss from a girl, he had just destroyed his only friendship, she most likely hated him now, she was never going to talk to him, she was crying hysterically probably, _he_ was crying—

Just like Charlotte, the ten-year-old British boy dashed down the street, feet banging into the concrete pavement, nearly tripping over the crack in the ground that he would usually hop over, and into the garden of his home, throwing his school bag and books on the front stoop and into the garden, where he crammed his lanky form under a large opening under a rose bush and sat as still as he could, covering his face and crying into his sleeve. A little while later, the back door opened and a soft voice called out; "Arthur?"

The small blond hiding sniffled as he looked up, wiping his nose and breathing out shakily. "In the rose bush, Charlie."

Feet with shiny black shoes on came over to his hideout and disappeared, replaced with a friendly smile and olive emerald eyes. "Hey, Artie. Can I come in?" The ten-year-old nodded, and scooted out of the way so that his fifteen-year-old brother could fit in. "I saw your stuff on the front steps and I didn't see you. Why are you hiding out here?"

Arthur smeared the tears away from his cheeks. "I got kissed by a girl today." His voice sounded soft and cracked at the end of the sentence, and he bit his lip to stop the water from pouring out of his eyes. Charlie's eyebrows raised as well as he grinned wide.

"Really? That's good, Arthur! Why are you crying, then?"

"I didn't like it."

"…Ah." He nodded his head, a look of understanding on his face. "I see. I get it."

_Sniff._ "Y-you do?"

"Course I do. My friend Paul is the same way. He likes to flirt with the girls, sometimes even with guys."

Arthur sniffled every now and then. "R-really?" He wasn't the only one?

"Yeah! And one day, when we were going to class, he told me that girls' kisses feel weird, and that guys are better. And you know what I told him?"

He shook his head.

"I told him that it doesn't matter who he likes, because if he hadn't told me, I would have never known. He's still Paul McGinty, and if he likes guys' kisses better than girls', well that's fine with me."

The little Brit sat in silence, contemplating this while he unraveled his legs and let them stay crisscrossed. So, it was alright that he didn't like a girl kissing him? "It's… It's alright then?"

"Well, some people don't like people like that, but if you like guys and you are one, then you have no problem because you're still the same person, just your preference in who you like is different."

Arthur's lips twitched upwards, staying in a small smile, and he wound his arms over Charlie's waist. The latter laughed lightly and returned it, ruffling the mop of blond hair the former owned.

"And you remember something, Arthur. You don't let anyone tell you you're different, because not every single person is the same. We all have different pigments of our skin or eyes or hair, different blood inside, different minds, different voices, different eyes, different ears, different families, different likes and dislikes, even different fingernails. No one is perfect, Arthur. And no one is the same."

When Arthur was older and had his own little house, he had painted those very words on his bedroom wall, and embroidered it on two cloths, framing it and putting one in his kitchen and one in his library.

* * *

><p>Arthur kept his secret from mostly everyone besides family. When his mother had heard, she had smiled down at him and told him she didn't mind, as long as he was lovely and bright and smart and kind. Maggie had raised an eyebrow, but then sighed and flicked his forehead, before stealing the apple he had in his hand and saying she didn't "give a mouse's diddies<strong>*<strong> about it" since he was still an annoying goody-two-shoes of a brother. Dillan had also stolen from him, grabbing his mashed potatoes from his plate and then congratulating him. The only one who didn't know was William, who was twenty-three and in university, as well as looking for a flat to share with his girlfriend Emma, and there was mixed thoughts about what his reaction would be like.

A few months later, April 11, 1928, Arthur was reading one of the books he had gotten from the local library, a new book of a murder mystery by a woman named Agatha Christie. It was very interesting, and he found himself refusing to put the book down. Just as he had devoured Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's collection of Sherlock Holmes, he consumed Agatha Christie's story of Hercule Poirot. He turned the page, glancing upwards to make sure he wasn't in anyone's way, and just as he looked back down again, the book was torn from his hands. "Oi!" He cried out in surprise, and jumped as the tall bully held the book above his head so he couldn't reach. "Give it back to me!"

"What's a little schmuck of a fairy boy like you doing reading this load of shit?" He sneered, holding the book high above his head. The blond Briton strained to reach, jumping but unable to get it from his grasp.

"Give it back, that's mine!"

"It's ours now, scat queen?******" Another shouted, and shoved the boy to the ground. The palms of his hands were skinned on the sidewalk, stinging horribly, but he still stood back up again.

"I am not!" He glared at him piercingly. He was around his siblings enough to learn of the slang terms they used, and he knew just what they had called him. Thankfully, they would never dare to use such a term towards him.

The leader of the group who had his book cackled. "I bet he's gagging for it******, too!"

Ah. That was one of Maggie's favorites that she would use to describe the guys that followed her. "Stop it! I am not, just give me my book back, you piss-arse******!"

The group of bullies was all silent as they stared at the lanky boy years younger than them, their brains trying to comprehend what he had said. Arthur took the time to grab the arm down to his height, take his book back, and run quickly down the block to home.

"_Get the gaylord__******__!_"

Arthur's legs had never moved as fast as they had at that moment. Even as he ran out of breath, he pushed himself to continue on, a cramp quickly developing in his side. But it was the crack in the middle of the pavement, the one he would always jump over, that made him trip and

******"Look at pizzaface!" "Little pisser!" "Pissy little gayarse!" That and various other names were shouted as two of the six bullies pulled him up, three grabbed his school bag and started to dig through it, pulling out and throwing out its contents, and the leader stood in front of him, standing over him and making sure to look him straight into his frightened emerald eyes as he pounded each of his rolled-up hands into the lanky, skinny body. "Wanna play the pink oboe******, gayboy? Huh? Wanna play?"

"Leave me alone, no!" He shouted, struggling to escape but with no success as his body was repeatedly abused by fists.

The bully laughed at the shorter as he took out a cigarette, one of the follower bullies lighting the butt and throwing the used-up waste to the ground. "Hey mates, whot's the difference between a fag and a faggot?"

The others chuckled, the two with the grip on the blond tightened their hold, and the smaller boy gulped, attempting to move away.

"They're both fags!" The main bully shoved Arthur's head back by his hair and placed the end of the cigarette against his throat, eliciting a loud and pained scream for exactly two second before a fist collided with the leader's face, sending him to the ground. Two more clenched hands collided with the others, sending them to the floor. The other three had dropped his belongings and ran, but the ten-year-old blond was focusing on the giant of a brother that was shoving his belongings back where they belonged.

"William, y-" Arthur began, but a hand was held out to him, the shadow of his oldest brother looming over him protectively.

*******"Come on, Baby Artie. No one's goin' tae get ye wi me here."

William had carried his brother on his back to the local drugstore in town, buying first aid materials for his youngest sibling, who refused to come down from his back in fear. The eldest didn't mind, and paid for his purchase before walking out and sitting on the steps, setting his brother down and facing him.

"Christ, Artie, ye got sum real bad cuts on yer face." He pressed a piece of cotton against a wound, and his brother gasped before turning away from him. "A'tie, what are ye doin'?" The blond boy glanced up at his redheaded brother, his accent rich and sounding like a Scotland native, and William frowned at the appearance of the green eyes that were nearly bursting into tears. "Ah, c'm'ere, wee babby Arthur." He pulled the smaller into a hug that although it made him wince from the pain, it gave him just as much comfort and love. "They can't hurt ye wi' me around, y'know that?"

Arthur nodded and sniffled, rubbing his eye and hiccupping. After a minute of the embrace, they broke apart, and William started to dab at his injuries once again. The younger watched and reacted, but never once pulled away. "I thought you couldn't make it for my birthday this year," he mumbled sadly. "You said you were too busy studying and working."

"I know, and ye can thank Emma for gettin' me here." He wrapped a bandage around his palm, kissing the middle of the gauze just like Elizabeth had done to any wound they had (and still did, even if she hadn't put it on). "Said how she'd set aside any work for me, give me what I missed over th' phone. But I wanted to be here for me broth'r. Haven't seen ye since Christmas, can ye believe it?"

The smaller bowed his head in guilt. "I'm sorry I made you have to leave, Will."

The older scolded him and tapped his nose gently, cautious of the medicine that had been rubbed on. "Now, don't ye be gettin' all sad now. I came here fer ye, and I'm stayin' fer ye. An' no wild pricks with fags are goin' ta change that, got it?"

Arthur nodded, and William packed away the first aid materials, holding it in one hand with the younger's school bag over one shoulder, and he stood up with an offered hand. The blond took it as he stood up and they started their walk back home.

"So now…why were tae callin' ye those names?"

Arthur looked away with a frown. "They wanted to be mean to me…?"

"Arthur…"

"I was reading a new book by an author named Agatha Christie. She writes mystery books about a Belgian named Hercule Poirot, a-"

"Arthur, there's another reason wy I came here. Wanna know wat that is?"

Hesitant, the shorter nodded, worriedly thinking of what he was going to say.

"Mum said that you wanted ta tell me a secret."

Not just a secret, but one of the best secrets he had ever kept… "Y-yes…I did."

He gazed down at him with his green eyes, staring unblinkingly at him as he waited. "Well?"

Arthur stopped and tried to reach on his tip-toes. William bent down and got on one knee so that they were now at an equal height. And still, the small English boy felt uneasy. "I had my first kiss."

His pale, scarlet-haired eyebrows rose in shock. "Really?" He let the information sink in, and started to chuckle before ruffling his brother's hair. "That's wonderful, Babby Artie."

He shut his eyes tightly and whimpered. "I didn't like it." He opened an eye to see his sibling's eyes making contact with his, and he clenched his eyelids shut again. "I think a girl's kiss to me is gross."

The two were quiet for what seemed to be the longest time, Arthur trembling from the thought that Will might not be as accepting as he thought. There was quiet for too long, and when the former finally reopened his eyes, his brother was smiling at him.

"Babby Artie," he sighed. "Are ya tryin' ta tell me ya didn't like a girl kissin' ya?" The shorter nodded slowly, and William laughed, shaking his head. "Do you also have five arsecheeks?"

Arthur denied that with the horizontal movements of his head. "N-no, of course not!" He tried to turn around so he could check his clothed rump, but his amused brother rotated him around.

"I could care less what ye like. Yer my brother. And I can care less 'bout wat ye like." William stood back up straight and held his hand out. Arthur grinned, and took it. "C'mon, Babby Artie. Let's go home."

* * *

><p><em>Thirteen years later:<em>

"_Okay, boys and Maggie? Get together for me, please!"_

"_Get off it, Mum, we're all buckled__*****__ anyway."_

"_Yeah, except for Charlie."_

"_Oi! At least I'm in the army, doing something productive with my life and not sitting around like a lazy arse like you are!"_

"_HAHAHA! Dillan's a lazy arse!"_

"_Shut up before I give you a toe in the hole, Maggie!"_

"_And I'll give you a kick right in the bollocks!"_

"_Ask me arse!"_

"_Poof!"_

"_Oi! Both of you gingersnaps, shut your mouths. Babby Artie's right here."_

"_William, I'm fine. It's not as worse as when you starved me for eight hours when I was three."_

"_That was one time, ya boot__*****__! Let it go!"_

"_Oh, sure, I'll just totally forget that you locked me in my room and ignored my crying for five hours straight."_

"_Belt up, ye arse bandit."_

"_Don't say that, William, Babby Artie's right here."_

"_Mum, please tell them to shut the fuck up so we can take the damn picture and go back to getting arse-over-tit__******__."_

"_Blimey, Arthur, whotever happened to innocent you?"_

"_Easy, Mum, I have these idiotic blokes and Maggie."_

"_An then yer arse fell aff."_

"_Belt up, Will!"_

"_Can you all at least pretend to love each other?"_

"_Wait, I have an idea."_

"_Bloody fuck, Babby Artie, get yer arse over here before I smack it!"_

"_Wanker, I'm twenty now! Belt up before I banjax you over the ear!"_

"_That's my bloody fucking word, Artie. Betta take that back before I do some banjaxing myself."_

"_Just take your Guinness. We'll all hold our jars up and smile, like we love each other as we get all mullered and off-our-face."_

"_Thank you, boys and Maggie! Finally, too."_

"_Hey Babby Artie, I hope you get back scuttled into a wall one day."_

"_Yes, and I hope you get up the yard and give birth in a cock manger."_

"_As soon as this picture is over, I'm going to banjax those bloody caterpillars off yer face, Arthur."_

"_They're eyebrows, bloody wanker."_

"_Go suck a skin flute."_

"_After you."_

"_Smile!"_

Three years later, at twenty-three, Arthur can't help but smile at the picture of he and his siblings on Christmas Day, smiling as they held their drinks out. From the far left standing was William, looking as rugged as he could get. Beside him was he, Arthur, trying to stand with his much taller older brother leaning on him. Next was Charlie, always in the middle, this time in his military uniform while holding up a very full drink that he hadn't even taken a sip of until midnight. And lastly were the twins, smiling and trying not to fall over as they held up the Guinness. He definitely would never forget that moment, ever.

He was awakened from his daydream when a lanky form nuzzled into his leg, and he gazed down at the purring orange-and-white cat and smiled. "Hello, Merlin," he greeted the cat Will had given him when he turned twenty, and picked up the feline carefully. "Are you hungry, luv?" Merlin purred against his chest, and he chuckled, carrying his pet to the kitchen. Almost instantly, there was a jingle and light barks, claws scratching against the polished floors, and in sight from the living room was two Yorkies, Holmes and Juliet, tiny and too irresistibly cute, yapping away and jumping on their blond master. He laughed as he nudged them away cautiously. "Alright, alright, I'll feed you."

The Englishman was pouring the food into the separate bowls when the loud sirens started, and after feeding his pets and putting the food away, he strode over to the window and gazed out at the London night through the black curtains. The roaring planes were heard from a distance away and growing closer. A bit of fear struck inside of him, and he moved away from the window, whistling for his pets and heading for the basement, since he wasn't in possession of a bomb shelter. But before he could make it to the door, he found himself flying across the room to the sitting area, debris flying all over him and the room, and his pets' cries as they dodged the ruins.

As he tried to sit up, the ringing from the explosion still present in his ears, a particularly large piece of the wall was thrown into his left leg, and he gasped in pain, leaning forward on the palms of his hands. Glass slipped into his skin, but he ignored it, tears filling his eyes as he tried to move his lower limb. His two Yorkshire terriers scurried over to him, Holmes leaping up to kiss at his face and Juliet limping while holding her small paw above the ground, before she fell against him. Merlin, he could see, was already on the stairs, waiting for him. Arthur shut his eyes and wiggled his foot away, carefully sliding it out of the rubble. He hissed in pain, trying to move as less as he could. He could barely feel his left leg, and he snapped his fingers toward the stairs, sending the pups towards that direction. Hesitantly, he moved forward in a strange crawl, attempting to keep his chest off the ground as much as possible, when more crashes sounded a distance away from him.

The blond Brit was able to get to the stairs, and he rotated, using his arms to lift him up on each step. When he made it halfway up, on the fifth step, another bomb was dropped beside his home, and he turned to the side and stuffed his face into his sleeve. The crackle of fire was what made him look, seeing it right in his kitchen. He stared at it, enhanced as if it had put him under a spell, and he gulped, now moving quicker. There had to be some safe spot in his house for him to go to. The bathroom was his best bet; there were no windows, true, but there wasn't any wood beside the door. Maybe he could get to it quickly—

If it hadn't been blocked off by a large blaze already. He groaned in agony, bending his head down, and dragged himself across the floor again. The library was the closest room and the farthest from each fire. Holmes and Juliet were trying to lick their wounds away, and Merlin waited in front of the library door for him, meowing when he saw him. Panting, he sat up enough so that he could turn the knob, and the ginger cat slinked in. He looked over to his cats, trying to regain a few breaths, trembling as his weak arms held up his body weight. Holmes stood up to leave and follow the cat, but just as he did, another large bomb erupted nearby, blowing away a part of opposite side and end of the hallway, but on the same time catching fire to little, sweet Juliet. A scream ripped through Arthur's throat, and he found himself frozen as the small Yorkie stumbled, body ablaze and falling to the floor. Holmes jumped to his sister, whining and sniffing her before he lay beside her, looking at his owner as if to say _I'm not going without her._ The blond choked on a sob, the tears already falling from his face, and he pet the male dog, before dragging his body through the door and shutting it, leaning on its back. A lone howl ripped through the air, quiet and sad, beside his own sobs and the cries of bombs and planes outside in London.

Merlin stayed close to him, pressed flat against his master's shoulder, purring as the Brit stuffed his face into the fur and wept. The human shook from a mixture of fright, pain and sadness. This was too much. He was going to die here. Not even twenty-five and dead, all because some Europeans want to be the supreme rulers of the world. Maggie and Dillan were in Dublin. Charlie and Will were still training. Mum and Dad, with Will's fiancé Emma, were in the same house he had grown up in with the same garden and the same smell, and the suburbs that he was so familiar with. He wondered how they would find out about his death in the morning. His mother would cry hysterically, he bet; she had always made it obvious that although she loved her children unconditionally, Arthur was her favorite. Dad would be saddened, but hide it. Maybe not. Charlie would probably be in distraught. Dillan and Maggie would probably curse at him, be happy he was dead, but they would be distressed. And Will? After he was punished for locking his brother in his room, he tried to make amends with him and ended up being extremely close with him. They still insulted each other, true, but William was the only one to ever use insults aimed toward "Babby Artie". Will would probably go mental, homicidal even. He would want to avenge him.

That's when it hit him; just outside his window and right at the center of his heart. He was a twenty-three-year-old university student who wanted to be an English professor and write for all of his life. He had three pets, a (somewhat) loving family. Why did he have to die like this in a blitz, for something he wasn't even responsible for? "I don't want to go." It came out in a quiet whisper at first, and as the fire started to reach him, his voice raised. "No…no, please; please, don't. No. I don't want to go. I don't want to die! I can't!"

He stuffed his face into Merlin's face as the fire stretched over to his body, spreading over his legs and quickly up his body. He howled and sobbed, clutching the cat close to him. Merlin seemed to be content with his defeat and closed his eyes, but Arthur was weeping, unable to move and unable to do much as the flames assaulted his body ruthlessly and cruelly and painfully, scalding his body and killing him and causing both he and Alfred to pull away from each other.

***- Irish slang; I just love the Irish curses for words and stuff :) It's funny**

****- English slang; some of it's pretty simple to know, like bloody, fag (cigarette), and others. This one if my favorite though :)**

*****- Scottish slang; this is newly learned so I'm not too knowing on this one. Also, I apologize if it's hard to read Will's speech patterns at first :\ I blame my realist write inside of me :3**


	21. Secret

**Okay, so y'know how last chapter, I pretty much broke all of your hearts with the story?**

**Well, yeah, I have a problem, because I think you might come to my house with pitchforks and torches and be yelling at me sooo...yeah. But I threw in extra crappy smut because I can.**

**Nothing really to say right now, since I'm really tired for some reason. Wanna go take a nap. Maybe because it's that Time of Month for me, which is never fun. Yeah. I feel sluggish, lazy. It's Sunday, and tomorrow's Monday. Yay -_-**

**So, I own nothing here besides the plot. And just so no one get's confused, Emil is Iceland, Lukas (Bondevik) is Norway, and Mathias is Denmark. So, read, and ****enjoy :)**

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><p>Chapter 21:<p>

Secrets

As soon as Arthur had been out of the memory, he was pushed into Alfred's chest, head being held against the taller male's abdomen and sobs being drowned out by the suppression. The American held the Englishman close, rocking back and forth to comfort his sobbing, wailing form. The pain, as if he was still there in his house with Merlin, had returned to his body, throbbing harshly in his left limb and all over his body. But as soon as the hand of his lover started to stroke his hair and whisper soothing words to him, the pulses slowed down and the suffering of his body disappeared. His body took on a lethargic state and his weeping quietly reduced to silence, tears still falling but his cries extinguished.

"There we go," Alfred whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "It's alright now. I'm right here with you, my Beautiful Arthur. Right here, see?" He traced the side of his finger against his cheek. "Can you hear me, Lovely?"

Arthur nodded; "Mhm." His throat felt sore, only managing a couple of words.

A small chuckle rumbled through him and against the angel, the sound even and deep and reassuring to his ears. "I'll always be here beside you. It's alright now."

"Thank you," the blond whispered hoarsely, shutting his eyes as the gentle thumping of the demon's heart- _tha-thump, tha-thump, tha-thump_- drummed itself into his ears. "I…wasn't happy about it, but I'm relieved…satisfied that I showed you that."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Beautiful." Another kiss upon his head. "But now, I feel like I know you a bit more."

The older male's heart throbbed and he let out a sigh that trembled. Those words, he believed at first, would have made him feel uneasy, but the way Alfred had said them made him feel like he was sitting on a cloud. "You're too sweet, my Dearest Love." A smile had crept upon the blonde's face now, and he looked up into the scarlet eyes before leaning forward and connecting their lips without a hesitant move or thought. "You're much too sweet for me…and I wouldn't dare have it another way."

The demon grinned and giggled like a young child, holding a hand out so that their fingers could intertwine perfectly. "I can never love another person any better than I do right now, Flawless Beauty. I know for a fact that…I've ever felt like this for another person."

Their lips were together slowly yet quickly, connecting and moving over one another, exploring the other's body with hands. They enveloped their arms around each other, Arthur running his hands gently in between the demon's wings that caused a shiver. In return, his halo was toyed with by Alfred's thumb and index finger, and that was answered with groaning. Soon enough, with the tiny advances over one another's lips, with small little cries and movements, the tension in the air and the desire for more increased rapidly, and Arthur was soon on his back gasping as the demon offered three fingers to him. With no hesitation, he took them, licking and lapping them up so that the pain he had endured only once wouldn't be as bad. Alfred pressed kisses along his face and neck and hands, moaning into each one he placed on the pale, flawless skin. His hips rolled along the Briton's, and eliciting sounds of pleasure from both.

"I'm going to make another promise to you," the American whispered as he took his hands back after they were well slicked up, and they began their search for the other's entrance. "I want us to be together forever. I want to stay with you for the rest of time. And I'm going to do whatever it takes to get us there."

Alfred's finger went in easily once he ran his hand around it; the Brit inhaled and tried to relax, trying to hold onto anything and instead opting for raveling his arms around the neck in front of him. The hand pulled away from his halo and helped sit him up as a second finger was added, spreading with every other movement that it made. Arthur found himself gasping for air, fingers curling and clawing at the sensation of both bliss and discomfort that the preparation gave him. He tried to speak, opening his mouth slightly, but only forming a perfect O as he was at a loss for proper words. Only small pants and gripes were able to be found that grew when that sweet spot was touched and prodded at. He grunted breathlessly each time the spot was hit, moaning when it stayed in the same area longer than necessary.

"I'm going to protect you forever."

Still sitting up, the large member was placed inside of the angel all the way so that he was full, causing his head to roll backwards and a groan to slip out. The pressure, oh God the pressure was too much for him, ohGod_ohGod-_

"I'm going to stay by your side forever."

The demon's hips started to move upwards, moving in a steady and cautious rhythm. "A-a-ahh~!" Arthur scrunched his eyes shut and leaned into the other, pressing his face into Alfred's neck and sighing as the thrusts picked up. "Alfred…p-please."

"I'm going to love you forever."

"Alfred~!" He forced their lips together and breathed into it, shoving his tongue around the cavern and groaning, his hands pushing their heads together. With the kiss, the shoves became rougher and coarser, eventually becoming uneven. Gasping wildly for air, it was a wonder he even managed a coherent sentence. "I want—to love you—forever," he panted in between intakes of breath. "For as long as—I live…I'm never leaving your side…r-remember that." Arthur didn't quite know what the cause was; maybe it was the sweet, kind smile that he gave, maybe it was his comment; but the next thing he was aware of, Alfred held him tightly as he finished inside, filling the smaller to the brim and causing him to reach his end as well, with a quiet whisper into Alfred's ear. "I-I promise you…a-an eternity…"

The American carefully pulled out of him and kissed him fully, letting his hands ravel into the other's and squeezing them gently. "I'll love you for more than that."

Arthur couldn't help but smile. "And I'll do the same."

* * *

><p>The lovers sat in their post-love-making bliss, holding hands and sitting shoulder to shoulder. The time now was sweet and spent with whispered words to the other, who would laugh in turn and then say something even more kind and loving than his lover had, repeating the cycle. Arthur had taken off his garment (which was now covered in semen and smelling rather disgusting) and had Alfred's jacket draped over and around his naked form, zipped up to hide him. Alfred had taken off his shirt and therefore sat without one, but the comfy warmth that arrived from his bat wings was cozy and enough to keep the two warmed up.<p>

"The first time I saw you, I knew I wanted to make you mine," the demon whispered, pressing a kiss against his ear and receiving a hum and a laugh. "And now, I know you will never leave."

Arthur nuzzled his head beside his, and leaned up to talk into his ear. "You are my first, true, and eternal love," he replied back. "I cannot stress that enough, and I will never stop saying that."

Alfred chuckled. "You can take all the flowers of the Surface and put them into bouquets of a dozen, and even then their beauty will never match yours." _Kiss_. "You're my Thornless Rose, my Beautiful, my Lovely."

"The love of Romeo and Juliet is but a crush compared to whot I feel for you. I love you like no other can love another object."

"My love is longer than it takes for the farthest planet in space to rotate around the sun."

"Each of my one heart's beats in my life are for you only."

The American moaned, closing his eyes and placing his forehead on his green-eyed lover. "I need you, Beautiful…"

"Then take me as you like."

Once again, their lips danced a dirty dance, sliding over each other smoothly. The taller carefully laid the Briton on his back, checking to see if his wings were out on either side of him. Arthur slid his arms out of the jacket, moaning as a warm kiss was smothered over his neck. He whispered his lover's name, hearing it softly echo down the rest of the cavern. Alfred licked up his throat, nipping it lightly as his hands caressed his sides and rubbed over the pert buds on his chest. "I want to own every part of this body…"

The angel sighed shakily, arching up into the touch. "Then steal every part of me."

Their arms wrapped around the other as the blond started to shove his hips upwards, one hand fumbling in between them as he attempted to unbutton and unzip the pants the other was still, for some reason, wearing. Why were those damn pants so difficult?

"_Afsakið_. _Hver ert þú?_"*****

Hastily, the two broke apart at the sound of a new presence- a demon- and tried to cover their selves, Arthur frantically hiding himself into the leather jacket once again. The Son of the Dark was short, with white-silvery hair that was short and sleek, looking almost natural. His eyes were as red as blood, and there was a lantern in his hand that was dimly lit. His fangs poked out of his mouth, his attire a black undercoat that traveled to his thighs, hiding what was underneath, and ragged pants that were ripped in several places. "Who are you?" Alfred asked, sitting up and fixing himself.

The other demon, however, didn't answer him. "Are you here to see my brother?" He wondered.

"It depends on who he is."

The newcomer's eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion. "Bondevik."

"Bondevik… Oh, Lukas Bondevik!" The American jumped and grabbed the other's hand roughly, shaking it with a wide grin. "You must be Emil, then!"

"Ah…sure." The demon slid his hand out of the rough hold, rubbing it the sides of its skin sorely. "Mathias was going to send for you."

Alfred helped Arthur and then enveloped him in a smooth hug. "Is Mathias busy? I tried before, but there were a few others that he was talking to." He started to rub deep circles into the angel's back, bringing out soft sighs.

Emil glanced down the way he had come, and motioned with his head. "Follow me."

"Um, Alfred? Are you sure we can trust him?"

Hand in hand, side by side, Alfred and Arthur sauntered just a bit behind the other demon. Ever since they had started the seemingly long journey to the very center of the mountain, there was a twist of fear in the latter's stomach. He wanted desperately to go back and lie down forever with his demon, making love continuously until their muscles would barely be able to keep them going and hold them up. And there was something mysterious and strange that he found about Emil. What if he was lying and they ended up in a different part of the mountain and were devoured? Would he do something like that, though, if Alfred seemed to know him well?

"It's going to be alright," the American whispered to him, pressing a warm kiss on his cheek and nuzzling his ear. "I've known these guys since I came here. We can trust him."

"But still…there's something that worries me terribly…" His grip on Alfred's hand tightened, and he moved closer to him. Something bad was going to happen, he was sure of it.

The trio arrived at a large clearing with a breathtaking view of the inside of the mountain, the ceiling extending up and sideways to form a cone, as if they were encased in a pyramid. Various caverns were placed around the perimeter of the circle, carved perfectly into dirt and surrounded by stone. Lights from torches were mounted on the walls, the fire burning a beautiful orange and dancing beside its shadow. A few openings to their left, a light chatter was wafting through to them. Emil placed the lantern down and nodded toward it. "Over here," he informed them, and they started to walk forward, but were prevented from going any further when the demon in front of them stopped them. "The angel stays."

Alfred's eyes widened in shock, and Arthur's stomach churned. Stay away from Alfred? Out here? _Alone?_ What if he was caught and taken? Or eaten? He couldn't leave Alfred, and judging by his lover's face, the Brit could tell the American wasn't going to let him go so easily.

"I don't go anywhere without Arthur," the taller stated firmly. Emil rolled his eyes, a façade of annoyance appearing.

"He may listen by the door if he prefers to, but Lukas and Berwald do not take likely to angels prying in on their conversations unless they approve of it first."

Alfred growled deep in his throat, eyes darkening into a dangerous ebony. Arthur's hands felt too cramped and tight in the usually-comforting hold, and the latter tugged on his hand. "Alfred, calm down," he murmured to him. "I'm fine, I'll be right outside the door, I won't go anywhere. I promise." The words relaxed the other considerably, his eyes dimming and his grip letting up slightly.

"I can tell we're being followed, and I don't want to lose sight of you," his demon mumbled. His voice was faintly deeper, but his normal tone bled through his voice.

"I'm not a child, Alfred, I'll be right here outside the door." He gave a reassuring smile as the American demon looked down at him. "You can trust me, right, Poppet?"

At the nickname he had given him, Alfred smiled and his eyes returned to their pale red. He grabbed his lover's hands gently, placing one to his cheek to nuzzle and the other to his lips to peck. "Of course I can." He weakly raised his lips, and let the hands return to their owner before he turned and trudged to the room that the other demon had gone through. The entrance was hastily closed with a rock that fit perfectly in the hole, preventing only a slim amount of light. Arthur raised his wings up and glided over silently, pressing his ear against the crack in the stone that allowed light.

"_Mathias!_" Alfred's voice exclaimed, followed by joyful laughs. Wasn't Mathias the one who had told him the story of the Dane and Norwegian?

"_Hey, Alfred!_" A cheerier voice chimed in, sounding strangely like the one who had told him the story. "_Haven't seen you since the invasion. Been having some good fucks?_"

_Ugh, how revolting,_ Arthur scoffed.

"_That's disgusting, Mathias. No one calls it that,_" a much more serious voice commented, sounding free of any emotion.

The angel couldn't hide a smirk. _Heh._

"_Ah, Lukie, you know _Jeg elsker dig~!"

"Gå til helvete_._"******

"_I already am. Can I invade Oslo tonight and make it Copenhagen~?_"

"Nei. _My ass is not Oslo, and you cannot take your dick and put it my ass to make it Copenhagen._"******

"_Sure, sure Lukas~. I'll convince_ you~!"

"_Hm. Sure._"

"_HAAHA! _Jeg elsker dig~!"

"_Hm…_ Jeg elsker deg også."******

"_Really~?_"

"_Sure._"

The sound of footsteps and (what sounded like Norwegian) swears were heard, causing Arthur to chuckle. They definitely sounded like an odd couple. But when the licks and moans were heard next, he frowned. They must love each other a lot, if their kissing sounds like that. _Wonder how Alfred's feeling about all of that._

"_Could you please go somewhere else to eat each other's faces? It's disgusting,_" a voice that sounded similar to Emil complained.

"_Yeah, yeah,_" Mathias' voice broke away from kissing, slightly musky. "_Go play with Left Hand, I think he's lonely_." Silence pursued for a short while. "_HAAAHA! I'm just kidding, Emil, I know you don't—blech!_" Slight gagging and gasping cut him off from continuing.

"_Þakka þér._"*****

"_Hm. He was getting annoying anyway._"

The choking stopped, and soon one of the residents inside was gasping. "Min Gud_, Lukas! I could've died!_"

"_You're already dead._"

"…_oh yeah._"

"_Where's Berwald?_" Alfred, who had been silent and most likely uncomfortable, finally asked. "_He's usually at the door, isn't he?_"

"_He changed his angel Tino a while ago, now he's waiting for him to wake up._"

Arthur's heartbeat stilled. What did he mean by that? He didn't really mean that Tino (of course, how could he forget kind Tino who had helped him?) was possibly…dying because he was changed. _Whot if that happens to…me?_

"S_peaking of changing an angel…,_" Alfred paused, and the Briton felt as if he was standing on a thin thread and whatever word his lover said would define his fate, "_I…I-I've decided to change Arthur._"

The blonde's wings bristled upwards and he held his breath at the spoken words. He didn't move a single muscle. After what the demon had said about Tino and then the incident with Yao, he didn't want to speak of converting or see another demon unless his name was Alfred. But even now, with those words his lover had said, he wanted to get as far away from the room as possible, even though his heart ordered him to stay.

"_Hm…_," Mathias, it sounded like, hummed in thought. "_Are you sure you want to?_"

"_Y…yeah. I mean, I love with no matter what he looks like or how he acts, but…I really want to be happy with him without Ivan or our boss of the Harvesters around. I just…want us to be happy…and that is the only way we can without any other problems facing us._"

"_Have you talked to him about it?_" Lukas wondered.

"_Well…no. Not yet, at least. I…I'm planning to, at least._"

"_And you've kept this a secret for…how long?_"

"_Eh…ever since I took him from Heaven, I guess._"

Arthur held back a sob, and moved away from the makeshift door. Anger roared in his mind, and love swam in his heart. He felt himself divided once again: to stay here and wait for Alfred to come out and allow him to make the change; to leave and never look back, trying to get away; to stay and question Alfred and ask him why he didn't talk to him first about it. There were so many questions, so many wonders, that he needed and wanted to get answered. He had to do something quick.

In the end, it was his legs and his wings that had betrayed him, bringing him to the exit and out the way they had arrived. With a new mindset and new determination, he glided down the corridor, moved the rock out of the way, and slipped outside to the red sky and trouble. Trembling, he gently leaped off the ground and started to fly forward, trying to get his mind away. He finally landed on a large rock and relaxed, rubbing his fingers through his hair and wondering what he had just done.

He was afraid he would get converted, afraid he would never have the happiness they wished for,to have happe had gotten away from Alfred, and he regretted it.

***_-_**_ Icelandic (in order): Hello; Who are you; Thank you._

****_-_**_ Norwegian (in order): Go to hell; No; I love you too. Oslo is the capital of Norway, by the way. Denmark would probably want to make it Copenhagen X3_


	22. Stuck

**Nothing to say here. Except for that this was a pretty quick update X3**

**Also, quick question before I get started: so, I came up with a story idea a while ago called "I Solemnly Swear" about the Bad Touch Trio/Badass Trio/Bad Friends Trio/Gilbert, Antonio and Francis. It's an AU, and I put the idea up on a shelf in my head to use later on, but now I've decided to start writing before I lose anything. So, it's about a promise that the three of them made to always be friends, but after high school, they get their own lives and grow distant from one another. But, they try one more time and go around the world trying to rekindle their friendship and blah blah blah.**

**But, I'm debating on this, since I already started the prologue: should I post it after Angel and Demon is done, or when I finish A&D? I'm having a bit of difficulty, so if you could help me.**

**So, I own nothing but the plot. All characters go to Hidekaz Himaruya. As usual:**

**Enjoy~!**

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><p>Chapter 22:<p>

Stuck

_Oh dear Lord. Whot the bloody hell have I done?_

_I broke a promise. I just left Alfred. I broke a promise to not leave Alfred and yet I did because…well…why? Why did I leave my dear, sweet poppet?_

_I had promised…oh dear God, I had promised that I would stay there, that he would come out to see me and I would be there. But I didn't…and all because of my selfish needs. Just because…I was afraid._

…

_Damn…I've done a lot of sinning down here, haven't I? I fell in love with a demon, a male, had some amazing lovemaking just last night (wos it really just last night when we had done it?), kissed a demon, I now swear again. I've done so much in only whot seems like a week and a half. I lost track of how long I've been here. And yet I don't feel any different. I'm breathing, I'm not out of existence. I feel like I usually do._

_Except for that one thing. That very thing, that sits in my body every day and tells me that every beat is for the one person I've ever loved. I have fallen for him and I can't get up, no matter how much I may try to stand. But even so, the more time that passes when I'm with him, the more I feel my heart drum for him and only him. Every day, my heart and I march side by side, sworn to love my Lovely Poppet for as long as my heart beats for him and as long as I stay by his side faithfully. And I did swear myself to that, that I would always love him and always be beside him, that I would be the one to hold his hand and intertwine my fingers with him, that I would be the one to…h-hold him inside of me and let him th…th-thrust…why did I leave? To get my head sorted out? To get a breath out of the mountain and maybe rethink my choices? Or…_

_Am I just…not ready for a relationship like this?_

_It's obvious that Alfred is my love. I love him more than I know and more than I can hold. And we've already made love twice- and in less than twenty-four hours nonetheless. Is it the fact that we haven't taken the proper steps to a relationship?_

_Well…whot's usually in a relationship? A small date spent talking, or at a dinner, even just walking and spending time with each other. Is that a "date"?_

_Then…whot's after that?_

…

_Or does that just continue on until a…a-a proposal? And then a wedding? Bloody hell, whot are we?_

_Lovers? Definitely. There's no doubt about that._

_But did we go too fast? We haven't even known each other for a while. Only approximately a week and at least three days. Did we speed up our relationship?_

_Well…then again, it is better than having to wait for one of us to finally admit. I mean, he's told me before that the first time he saw me, he knew I was for him, and him only. So even if I did wait a little while to tell him, I think we already would've-_

…

…

…

_I still have his jacket on._

…

_Oh dear God, so even if I get as far away from him as possible, he can still find me- unless I want go on about completely nude, of course. He probably knows his own smell and mine well enough that he can track me down. I just hope none of the bloodlust demons or the Harvesters come searching for me. Especially Ivan, which I hope won't happen at all._

…

_God, I miss my dear, lovely, poppet. I miss his hugs, I miss his compliments, I miss his smile, I miss his eyes, I miss his…presence._

_Heh…look at me. I haven't even been gone ten minutes and already I'm missing him._

_Maybe he's grown on me. Maybe it's just…him that makes me feel like this and makes me blush and smile. Why, he even manages to give me urges I never thought I would ever have, never in a million years. I've been through a lot during my time here, and…it feels like we've been together for thousands of years. I can't name much about him yet, and this idea of falling in love is still new to me, but I know I can say without difficulty that he is my love. Alfred Jones, the foolish demon who fell in love with me and captured my heart, is my only, true love. He is my north, my south, my east, my west. My everything. He is my every thought, every breath, every heartbeat. I feel like they go on, I go on, because of him and my love for him._

…

_That's it. I'm going back to wait. Hopefully, he hasn't noticed I'm gone. If I wait any longer here, I'm going to end up getting attacked._

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><p>Arthur, after sitting down and thinking things through severely, finally pulled the jacket over his shoulders a bit more, adjusting his wings so they could feel comfortable while compressed before he reluctantly let the feathered limbs out and gently lifted himself into the air, floating just a few cautious feet above the ground. He could hear the roars and snarls of demons from all over, and a strange sort of fear washed over him. He knew they were coming for him. <em>Of course they would be. Alfred seems highly important to them despite where his views are, and they want to have him gone, I suppose. I should really get out of here.<em> Arthur hadn't even moved when he was suddenly lifted up by his halo and thrown to the ground roughly. With a cry of surprise, he was thrown backwards and a strange device closed between his wings, and tightly kept him in place and from moving. He held back a cry, but it was too obvious as to why he had been hit.

He was wanted by the Harvesters, and right now they had caught their prey.

Arthur brought a hand up to caress at his halo, and he frowned as his fingers grazed over the cut in the ring above his head with a wince. His upper body was partially sitting up and lying down, so he was in an uncomfortable position, palms flat on the ground and body dipping backwards due to the foreign object that had latched onto his wings with too much force. He couldn't see what was holding onto him, but he knew whatever it was, the clips that had him down were sharp and the grip was hard and harsh on his wings. He whimpered only once, and shifted his body, and almost instantly agony flowed through him as his feathers were pulled on as if to tighten them.

_Well perfect. Of course this would happen to me._ There was no way he was going to move, not in the current state of his wings. He couldn't lie backwards and relax on his back. Demons had already begun to circle him, their glares digging into him, wings loud and alerting him of their presence, snarls echoing around the area. He was completely and utterly trapped. _Dammit…why me?_

Arthur took to making as little movement as possible, only shifting his lower body to the left and to the right and fixing how he put his weight on his hands as he leaned backwards. The Son of the Dark that had tossed him onto the clawed machine wasn't in sight, but he suspected it had to be either Ivan or that Turkish demon. Or maybe even someone completely different than them, who just wanted to see his blood spill. He kept an eye on the ones circling above him, as if they were going to swoop down on top of him and rip him up, eating him in the process. The more he thought about it, the more frightened he became, the more thoughts he processed, the more he doubted Alfred would come and help him.

It was a silly thought; he loved Alfred dearly (he had already confessed that about a million times) and it was obvious the American felt the same way for him, if not more. But there was something inside of him that had convinced his mind but that pulled at his heart to try and let it reason with him. The dreadful expectation of Alfred never coming to help him (no matter how much he regretted even thinking about how much he needed it) was overflowing within him. It had filled his mind, his ears, his eyes- nearly his whole body. But it had failed to try and fill his heart. There was too much love and admiration inside of it that it blocked out any negative thoughts about the demon. And if any reached it, they were turned into a positive one instantly.

Alfred was a bit silly and almost like a child sometimes? He was still young, perhaps eighteen.

Alfred seemed a bit too overprotective of him? He was madly in love with him?

Alfred hadn't come to help him in about thirty minutes at the least?

Well…he just hadn't realized that his lover was missing yet. And that worried Arthur to his very core.

Once again, he shifted his weight to his other hand, moving his leg as he did so. Once again, he craned his neck to see if he could get a good look at the injuries on his wing, but was unable to see much beside the feathered appendages being tugged back (the pain had died down into a sort of numbness) and the black rocks that were placed behind him beside something shiny and sharp. He tried to roll his shoulders by leaning back slightly, but that caused a tremor of pain to shoot up into him.

He had to get away. Quickly, somewhere where the demons wouldn't find him, somewhere easy to access. The mountain. Of course. They were by the Mountain of the Three Fates. Kiku lived at the edge of the mountain, as did Yao.

Yao… Even though guilt flooded his mind, he internally begged anyone daring to listen to him in the heavens that Yao was at least okay.

He shifted again, this time griping as one of the feathers was pulled at. He watched the demons above him as they slowed down and eyed him precariously. He inhaled and exhaled a deep breath, tightly clamped his eyes shut and ripped himself free with a scream, tossing him a few yards forward.

Blood was gushing from his back, but the wings were still partially intact. Some of them had been caught in the strange trap, but that wasn't his main concern right now, no matter how severe the agony and pain was, no matter how sore he felt. Weakly, with dust and dirt shrouding the front of the leather jacket, he willed his scraped legs to run as fast as they could before the demons that had dived for him caught up to him.

The fear set in when one of the demons' growls was right by his ear, the owner trying to grab his wings and tear one off. Luckily, Arthur had spun around and hastily thrown a fist right into his face, sending him back a few feet. _Oh great, Arthur. Of course you can resort to violence. Another one of your faults that has absolutely no effect on you._

As soon as one was thrown back, two more advanced, and with them came two more until the numbers doubled, all snarling and growling and roaring to try and catch him. His knees ached to be tended to, blood rushing from his injuries there as well and staining his usually flawless skin. His breath was erratic and leaving his body rapidly. He desperately needed help. And he was nowhere near Kiku's. It was on the other side of the mountain, and there was no way he would be able to fly up to a haven.

And just his luck, a particular piece of the earth was standing up, allowing his trip to the ground and causing him to stumble flat on his stomach, face on his cheek. He groaned a bit in pain, trying to move, but was stopped when one of the demons caught up to him and grabbed onto his wings as if they were reigns. He cried out in shock and pain, trying to wiggle out from under him and free himself, but was unsuccessful. His words were loss as the Son's mouth hovered close to his ear and gently nibbled and pulled on it.

"'ello there, lovely," he whispered in his ear, and snickered before leaning back and tugging on his wings.

The pain only lasted a second before something pounced on the demon and pushed him away with a roar. A gold cheetah had leaped over him and grappled onto the demon, sending him forwards and into the crowding Sons. He guarded the angel, pacing and growling and getting louder when one of the demons got too close. His tail swished back and forth, and his blue eyes met Arthur's emerald only once. The Englishman recognized that look immediately, and knew just who he was dealing with. _You should be with Alfred,_ the cerulean eyes glared, and momentarily swiped at another attacker before focusing on him again. _You shouldn't ever be alone down here._

_I know,_ he replied back, looking away sheepishly. _I know better than anyone else._

Next, a pure white polar bear stampeded toward them and bellowed in warning and just as loudly, swiping the demons away from the large cat. When seeing the newcomer, the demons who didn't want to become dust escaped and retreated, but most of them were destroyed by the bear. The Brit couldn't make out who the animal was in a demon form. He hadn't ever seen him before, and he wished it wasn't someone he knew. When the last of the bloodlust enemies were gone, either in dust form or away from them, the cheetah reverted back to Francis, who looked both furious and upset at the blond.

"Arzur," he began, and shook his head before he could continue. "I believe you 'ave lost your very mind."

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, looking away and hugging his leather-clad shoulders self-consciously.

The Frenchman sighed. "I want to ask wy you are not wiz Alfred, but I dread ze answer will be good."

He simpered. "It's quite dumb, actually."

"Well…you are English."

Arthur took the offer of the hands and was helped back on two steady appendages, but he glowered at him nonetheless. "Go wave a white flag around."

Before Francis could retort, a whine and nudge alerted him of the polar bear's presence, and all negative emotions were dropped from his face as he cradled the creature's face. "You did lovely, _mon cher._ _Très magnifique._"

Arthur's pulse stilled, and he found himself at a loss for words as the polar bear changed back to demon form. _Oh God no…not him, too._ The face was one too familiar besides the scarlet-red eyes and nearly-white-silver hair that framed his face. His smile was the same, and he sounded the same too, as he quietly thanked his lover and they met for a sweet kiss. _Why the hell did it have to be him? Whot did he do to him?_

The two broke apart quietly, and Francis whispered something into his ear before they were together again by mouths. The Brit bit back a twinge of jealousy at the scene, but it all disappeared when the Frenchman left, getting into the air and flying into the direction of the other mountain, and the demon who had stayed turned to look at him.

"Hello, Arthur," Matthew smiled kindly, fangs gently noticed as he spoke. "How about we get you home, eh?"


	23. Comfort

**Bueno readers~! ^-^ I am so goddamn happy that this week is over! It was really stressful for me- so much that I actually took a 3-hour nap when I should have been writing this DX Yeah...but it wasn't TOO long of an update, right?**

**Oh, so just to give you all a heads-up, and I already mentioned it a few times to reviewers: even though the times are sweet, literal Hell is going to break loose. That's all :|**

**Aaaaand another thing: DEMON!MATTIE~~~ DDDDDD So exciting~! Although he is in this chapter briefly, and won''t be here for a while. Maybe, eh...three chapters? Yeah. Oh my God, I'm at chapter 23! 8O It's crazy~~~**

**Um, and another thing, I apologize for my fail at Canadian. I have never been to Canadia before and I haven't heard one yet, so yes, that "eh' and "aboot" are just the usual Hetalia-stereotype that comes with everything Hetalia. God, I love hearing Eric Vale as Mattie!**

**Wait...who's Matthew Williams?**

**XD Oh my God, I'm so cruel. He's getting his character song finally, he deserves a lotta love~! OwO**

**Okay, because I spoiled it for everyone on purpose~~~, I own nothing here. Hidekax Himaruya is in possession of the characters whilst (heh, whilst, funny vurd) I only own the plot. So, without further ado:**

**Enjoy~!**

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><p>Chapter 23:<p>

Comfort

"M-Matthew…?"

The former angel, now demon, smiled kindly, and nodded. "_Bonjour._ It feels like I haven't seen you in years."

Matthew Williams- quiet, kind, shy, Matthew Williams- was a demon. A _demon!_ It couldn't be, this had to be a dream. The world went slightly out of focus, twirling around faintly. "B-but…it can't be…"

"What, you don't believe it, Arthur?" The younger pressed his hand against his cheek, and, on instincts, Arthur flinched away, too afraid to move if he wanted to. But where would he go? He was immobile at the moment, limbs too weak and heavy to move. There was no way he would be flying for a while, perhaps even the rest of his stay here. He backed up so that his back was pressed against the mountain, cringing as his wings pressed against it in pain.

"You can't be the same Matthew Williams," he whispered. He could tell his voice was full of fear, but he didn't care at the moment. That could not be Matthew Williams. It was near impossible.

The demon sighed, shaking his head. "Arthur…if you saw Yao as a demon right now, would you think it's him?"

Without missing a single beat, he nodded confidently. "Of course." Yao was his best friend; he would know him anywhere. And now the Canadian's small smile made his stomach churn, if only slightly. "Ah…I see whot you did."

Matthew chuckled quietly. "Do you think it's me now? If I was another demon, I would have already killed you. And I wouldn't have kissed Francis if I was someone else."

Hesitating only faintly, the Brit nodded his head. "I…it definitely can be no one else." He managed to raise his lips, if only slightly.

"Come on, Arthur." He motioned towards the house. "How aboot we go get you inside the house and relaxed, eh?"

The blond nodded. "That would be nice."

Matthew helped Arthur up to Alfred's house over the cliff edge in silence, the angel too filled with his own thoughts to reply to him as they took the short journey. He couldn't look at his old friend without feeling a twinge of guilt or remorse, and refused to even speak to him. But, it was impossible to stop him from thinking about him. When had he changed? How? Why? Anger rose up, anger directed at Francis, but he remembered something being said about only deciding to make the transfer when Matthew was ready. So there was no way that this ordeal could be blamed on the Frenchman, no matter how much he wanted to. This must have been his choice.

He wanted that.

To be able to say "I want to stay with you forever" and let himself be changed. He wished for that uncontrollably. He wanted to say the words "Alfred, please change me". He didn't want anybody else, even his own lover, to say that. If anyone were to pronounced those words, it would be him. And it would be filled with more love than they could possibly hold.

"Arthur?" The Canadian stopped his thoughts quietly. The Brit stayed in his place and didn't turn to look at him, instead looked at the ground in silence. "Arthur, if you're quiet because upset about me being a demon, then it's not Francis' fault, it's mi-"

"It's not that," he whispered, shutting his eyes. The words from before were fresh in his mind still, and he still dreaded hearing them. "I was just thinking…"

"Eh?" He took a cautious step towards him. "What aboot?"

Alfred wants to change me."

"Really? That's great!" The Englishman looked up to see Matthew smiling, and he couldn't help but do so as well, if only a little bit.

"The only thing is…I'm afraid it's going to hurt…badly." The truth lifted up a large boulder from his shoulders, and he almost sighed in relief at the feel. Now he knew that leaving Alfred was a mistake that he wanted to redo.

"Arthur…" He gently took his shoulders so that they were looking at each other, and the blond could tell even though they spent time apart from each other and one of them was a demon, they were still the same, that that was still the same Matthew Williams. "It's removing your wings and halo from your body. Of course it will hurt if it's not done quickly. And, yes, the bat wings and horns grow in and that hurts too, but as soon as it's over with…you're as happy as you can be."

Arthur didn't answer, and let himself be gently pulled into the house (and was surprised to find the house just as normal as when he had last been there), where he removed the jacket and snuggled into the bed, which had been removed of its rancid smell before they had left the house, just before they had visited Kiku and Yao (had that really been this morning? Was it just yesterday when he had confessed his feelings to Alfred?). Matthew sat on the foot of the bed quietly, legs on top of one another, and waited. Once in a while, he'd start up a conversation with the angel, who was drifting in and out of sleep whilst they waited. All he knew was that Francis had gone to bring Alfred back, and the Brit only hoped that he was right.

The English angel hadn't dreamt of anything this time since the intervals for snoozing and staying awake were disoriented, which was a big relief to him. He hated the fact that he wasn't able to control his dreams. But there was a reason for him seeing them, he knew it. He just had to find out what that reason was, and quick. He felt that if he told Alfred he had been having dreams about their future and Alfred's own past, he had no clue on how to react to his reaction- if the time ever arrived.

Matthew was kind to him, leaving him alone for a few minutes after he had awoken up, and telling him things that relaxed his mood and thoughts since they had left. Despite his change in appearance, he was still the fretful, kind Matthew that Arthur remembered spending time with. It almost felt like it was old times again, minus the obvious change from angel to demon. But he knew he was coming to see him sooner or later. Didn't know when, to be exact, but there was no doubt in his mind that he would see him.

"Is Francis really going to bring Alfred here?" The Brit whispered, toying with the sheet around him. He had just gotten up when the foolish idea of Alfred not coming back to his side hit him. Worried filled up inside of him now, and his mouth was dry as he spoke.

The Canadian only laughed and shook his head. "Arthur…do you really think that Alfred will never come back to you?" He asked him with a look of disbelief on his face. The blond looked away with a pout. "To be honest, I'm surprised he hasn't already started tearing Hell up from here to the boss's headquarters."

The boss. He hadn't heard a proper name for him yet, and he was starting to suspect who this new boss might be. "Do you know who this boss is?" Matthew had to have know some answers, right? He was a demon now, and a new one. He had to have met the boss.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the case, and the newly-made demon bit his lower lip as he hummed in thought. "Mmm…yes and no."

Well then. "That wasn't very helpful, Matthew."

The Canadian frowned, and bowed his head. "I'm sorry, it's just that…I met him briefly, but he only presented himself to me by letting me hear him, not see him."

"Whot was he like?" Now his interest was caught. There was no way he was going to stop asking questions, and they both knew it. He could tell from the exhale given.

"He seemed powerful, in the way that he spoke, like he knew that he was in charge. It was almost…" He opened his mouth to finish the word, but looked as if he was remembering something, and halted.

"Just a bit whot, Matthew? Tell me, please!"

The door opened at that time, and before the two could react, Alfred walked and stood in front of the bed with a look of fury on his features. His eyebrows were furrowed downwards, pastel scarlet eyes now jet-black. His hands were tightly formed into fists that were perched on his hips. His voice, when he spoke, was void of any cheerfulness or kindness, only order and rudeness. "Arthur. I thought you weren't supposed to leave me."

Sheepishly, Arthur pulled the covers to the blanket over his head, trying to hide into the mattress beneath him. He heard a few whispers, a hand brushing against his winged back, anda few Matthew's footsteps retreating to the door, and although he secretly wished the Canadian didn't have to leave, he knew he and Alfred had to be on the same level of knowledge first. By now, it was only the two lovers alone alongside the silence. The blond peeked out at the American, who hadn't even blinked away from his spot, and now looked down at him from his place. He went back to staying under the covers.

"Do you want to tell me why you broke your promise?" Alfred growled lowly, and Arthur sunk into the mattress of the bed even more than he had when he had seen him. He refused to answer his only love when he was furious, and remained silent. "Arthur, I need you to answer me."

"I'm not going to answer you when you talk like that," Arthur mumbled. He managed a glower from beneath his safe haven, surprised he could pull such a face. "I want you to calm down first."

The demon took a breath, but it was far from relaxed and more towards irked. "Arthur, cut it out. All I want to know is why you left me."

"And I'll tell you after you calm do-"

Before he could finish his sentence, he found his eyes gazing into cold ebony, the cover removed from his body, with the American straddling his waist, and he shivered at the sight of them. Those weren't the eyes that he loved. "I don't want to ask again, Arthur." His voice was low and filled with a warning of menace. "I want you to tell me why you left the mountain."

Arthur's hands had started to shake faintly. "I-I'm not going to tell you."

"_Dammit_, Arthur! Stop being so goddamn fucking stubborn!" He thrust his fist into the mattress, emphasizing his point and trying to get him to spill the truth, it seemed, but only managing to scare him triple the amount that he was. Upon hearing the curses thrown at him, he tried to back away from his spot, scooting upwards to get in the opposite direction, but was stopped by a rough hand that dragged him back down and forced him to look straight into the black eyes, sharp and familiar talons digging into the skin of his cheeks to do so. He gasped at the feel of blood pooling down his cheeks in strips, and he whimpered.

Inside of him, a small light blinked on and slowly started to grow into an idea. It was risky and sure to tear his heart into several, shattered pieces that he would have to fix later on. But it was the only way, he discovered, to get his lover back to his original state. "I don't love you."

Just as he had expected and hoped, Alfred's eyes reverted to normal, and his hand disappeared, as did the claws. The only thing left was confusion as the power shifted to the Briton now, and the American was left clearly confused. "Huh?

Arthur nodded his head grimly to confirm it, even as inside he screamed and practically tore himself apart for speaking the words. "I thought I did, but…now I realize that you're just a disgusting, revolting, terrifying thing that deserves no one's love. I thought you felt the same way about me, Alfred. I really did. I was convinced you were. But now…now it seems like you could care less about me, if you're going to be angry with me."

"Arthur…" There was a look of repentant and sorrow and heartbreak across his features, and it took everything inside the Brit to hold back on comforting him. Alfred's hand ran over his cheek, stroking it and gazing into his eyes, still in puzzlement and shock. "I…Please don't do this to me…I understand you're upset, but…I don't want you to hate me."

"It's too late, Alfred." _No. It's not._ "I've fallen out of love with you." _It seems as if I've fallen more for you._ "I don't want to see you anymore." _I want to stay by your side every day, for the rest of existence and time and beyond._

"Arthur, no!" By now, there was water swimming in the pale red eyes, a few tracks down his face, and the blond discovered he had made his love cry. "Y-y-you can't just…w-want that! I-I-I don't want you go to go!" His gentle yet roughly-carved hands gripped his upper arms lightly. "I love you so much, Beautiful! Remember? My Delicate Rose, my Pretty Angel, my Gorgeous, my Thornless Rose. You know what a Thornless Rose is, right? A Thornless Rose is a true love, Arthur. You're my Thornless Rose that will never wilt, and I'll keep you forever."

Now the Brit gulped down his own water, trying to keep his eyes from leaking. Even when he was being horribly cruel to him, he still complimented him and made him feel on top of the world. Why was he so goddamn perfect? "Y-you…Goddamn it, Alfred!" He reached up to cup the other's face, and the latter turned away. "Please don't ever believe me if I say those words…because I could never drag myself out of your love…"

Alfred only managed to pull him up and shove his face into his hair, trying to suppress his cries of fear and sorrow and relief. Arthur mimicked him, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to hide himself as the leather wings enveloped him into the sculpted, kind, beautiful, handsome body in front of him.

"I'm so sorry, Poppet… You know I hate it when you're upset with me… You just scared me into thinking you really hated me."

"Y-you think I-I can ever hate you?" Alfred trembled as he tightly gripped onto the blond beneath, whimpering and quietly crying, sniffling every now and then. "I can't, even if I was ordered to." He pulled back to wipe the tears away from Arthur's face, and kissed his cheek before connecting their lips. The Brit gently returned it, giving a quiet groan and pushing at the back of the American's neck to gain more contact. Alfred lifted him up slightly so their arms were enveloped around each other, every movement they made covered in love for the other male. The younger broke away momentarily, his warm breath ghosting on Arthur's mouth, and each comment punctuated with a kiss. "My Beautiful Angel…" _Kiss. _"My Lovely…" _Kiss_. "My Thornless Rose…" _Kiss._ "I'm so sorry…" _Kiss,_ "that I got angry with you…" _Kiss_. "Can you forgive me?"

"You think…I will ever stay mad at you?" He leaned forward slightly, taking his time as he pecked along his neck and jawline gently. "Luv…" _Kiss._ "Poppet…" _Kiss._ "My Darling Alfred…" _Kiss,_ "no matter whot may happen to us," _kiss,_ "I will always love you…" _kiss_, "…and I will always forgive you for your faults."

Alfred moaned, brushing their hips together slightly. "A-Arthur…I-I-"

"Shhh." He faced him again and stroked the side of his face. "Quiet, my dear. I know."

The American hastily kicked off the rest of his clothing as they violently connected, lips together and open and panting against one another in want and love and lust. Hands roamed over one another's bodies with loving caresses and bare bodies. The Brit's hands wavered over the molded form of the demon's chest, feeling every hair and muscle and twitch and heartbeat, the same heart that beat for him every single day. He pulled apart briefly, gazing into the adoring scarlet eyes that he loved more than anything. Alfred's hand reached up so that his fingers grazed over his cheek, softly petting the side of the finger against him.

"You're so beautiful, Arthur."

The angel gasped as the gentle hand kneaded his bottom softly, rolling one of the cheeks in the palm of his hand, back and forth and massaging it. Warm liquid started to drop down his legs, swarming downwards and causing gripes to exit his mouth. The demon watched him with amorous eyes from above him, his other hand taking both of his lover's hands and bringing them above his head. With one hand he prepared the Englishman, and the other he used to hold the thin wrists in place, his mouth licking and nipping at his neck and causing too much satisfaction, distracting the blond from what he was doing. Arthur moaned and dipped his hips forward, unaware of what was happening to his hands until the rope was tied tautly and he was immobile. "Wha…?"

"I want to pleasure you." Warm pants brushed against his ear, and he relaxed as the tongue and lips slithered up and kissed his neck, nipping certain places that sent the blond into shockwaves of pleasure. When there was little to no semen dribbling from inside the angel, Alfred slid two fingers in carefully, the digits spreading and stretching diligently. Arthur moaned and rocked upwards against the fingers, shivering when that sweet spot inside of him was barely probed at. "M-more…"

He smiled warmly. "Of course." The American added the third finger, and grinned when the Briton let out a pleasure-filled cry. He jabbed in the same direction, the smaller male's body wracking and trembling with pleasure for a bit longer, until the fingers were removed and replaced with the erect member.

Arthur relaxed his body, trying not to react too much, and his bound hands struggled slightly. Alfred gasped quietly, pushing in until he was completely in, and he sighed, panting and reaching both hands over him so that their hands curled together despite their different positions. The English angel released the breath he had held, shutting his eyes as the thrusts shallowly dug into him, prodding at each side, each direction, each position of nerves that made him groan and stretch upwards for more. "A-Alfred…"

"I want to savor this moment," the demon whispered, staring straight into his eyes as his hips moved inside and then out, inside and out, inside and oh this pleasure, this feeling of fulfillment drowned the Brit so much that all he could see was Alfred and the pair of loving, pale scarlet and the smile, could only hear their pants, the tidbits of his names from his birth and those that were out of affection, could feel the tender and passionate atmosphere that filled them up to the brim and left no room for anything else.

Alfred dug himself inside so that he could hit deeper, eliciting little gasps of pleasure and desire from Arthur and giving his nerves a feel of every single movement, every breath, every word, every single thing that the American made or did, whether on accident or on purpose, was overly affective and effecting him in every way imaginable. He couldn't remember much besides how Alfred sped up, or how their arms embraced the other without anything holding them back, or how loud they were as they yelled each other's names in ecstasy as they both were slowly brought to an end, and their comments and words ever flowing, ever constant, and ever so kind and loving for him, and only him, and always him.

"My dear Arthur…I will love you forever and more…I'll stay by your side for as long as I am able, and I will always make sure you are unharmed. And my words, I will keep or else let my life be taken from you, and my heart crushed… My love is eternal, and endless, and can go on for longer than me. It won't stop, and I promise you that I will never stop its rolling…and I will never stop loving you."

"My lovely Alfred…I will love you forever and more…I'll hold your hand when you need it, and I will always make sure you are safe. And my words, I will keep or else let my life be taken from you, and my heart crushed… My love will last for an eternity, time without end, and can go longer than I ever will. It won't ever stop, and I promise you that I will never stop its rolling…and I will never stop loving you."


	24. Taken

**I own nothing but the plot. Familiar characters go to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

**Grab some tissues, a tub of ice cream, and a first aid kit. Because this might break your heart. Sorry.**

**That is all. :|**

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><p>Chapter 24:<p>

Taken

Alfred and Arthur continued on with their love-making throughout the night, only stopping when their limbs and bodies were weighed with fatigue and contentment, having been in several positions several times and having shown their loves more times that they lost track. The demon kissed along his lover's hand that was intertwined with his, the latter trying to catch his breath. He felt as if he was floating and drifting away, soothingly swaying him into a comforting daze. The younger's breath calmed down before he spoke, and when it did, he smiled the most beautiful smiled that Arthur believed had ever graced his presence, and it made him feel as if he was falling in love all over again.

"Alfred…," he quietly began, marking the taller male's hand with his own kiss. "I love you so damn much."

Alfred nuzzled his neck. "I love you longer than…hmm…longer than my wings can stretch!"

He chuckled. "Oh, Poppet." The angel's blond head of mess tucked beneath his lover's chin, letting an arm scoop him closer and form a pillow from his chest. "Why do you have to be so sweet?"

"Because I'm in love with the most beautiful angel to ever grace heaven." _Kiss_.

Arthur grinned, finger tracing a gentle pattern into the sculpted chest. "With you around, I feel like I can just stop moving and everything would be alright. And I know it will be, because you are always there for me."

"Forever and always," Alfred pecked his lips, keeping them connected for a bit longer than necessary, "I will be."

When Arthur started to slowly drift off, embraced in warmth by the American's hug, he was brutally awaken from going any further into a snooze than he already was going.

"Hey Lovely?"

"Hm?" In groggy alarm, he looked up to gaze at him and blinked, rubbing his eyes as he tried to make eye contact with him through his hazy vision.

"Mm…I wanna know if you left because of what you heard in the room," Alfred sheepishly admitted, hand running through the gold locks that.

Arthur was silent for a long while. He didn't know how to respond to that. Tell him that he was right? That was the exact reason for why he had left. He was afraid he would be converted without his consent first. He was afraid he would be unhappy with the change after it was done with. But now, he was positive that Alfred would be able to wait until he was ready. But now, he knew he would be more than glad that he was a demon, once it was completed. He formed his words carefully and slowly, afraid to say the wrong thing in case his lover got upset with him. "Yes… I did leave because of that. I was afraid of whot was being said."

Alfred hummed, as if to agree with him, and rested his chin on the blond bush. "What was there to be afraid of?"

The Brit bit his lip, staying quiet and contemplating on how he would word this, before sighing and speaking once again. "I was just a bit afraid that I was going to be forced to become a demon."

"Forced?" He shuffled around a bit before he sat up a little so he could gaze down at him properly. "Beautiful, I would never do that you, ever!"

"You weren't?" He asked a bit dumbly, his eyebrows raised in shock. So the whole catastrophe before had been a waste of time? He couldn't be serious.

"Of course I won't! I won't change you until you're happy!" He took his hand and nuzzled his cheek against it, like a cat would do to get attention. "That is the most important thing to me, that you're safe and that you're happy."

Arthur let his head dropped atop the smooth abdomen, feeling a bit stupid for not having asked him first. _I knew I should've just waited for him first. Ugh…goddammit._ "Luv, I should've asked you first, I am so sorry." He took one of his faintly tanned hands and pecked each finger individually. "I hope you can forg-" The rest of his sentence was stopped as lips met his and a slick muscle prodded into his mouth. He grunted in shock that soon turned into a moan of pleasure, and pushed against the younger to try and gain more contact.

"Angel…you need…to stop assuming so much." He panted as he broke apart briefly, a thin trail of saliva the only thing keeping them linked besides their joined fingers. "But then again…I don't care what you do…as long as you love me and…love all of me."

"How can I not, Poppet?" He smiled, and leaned forward once again, placing their mouths and teeth and tongue together sloppily yet lovingly. Arthur shifted his hips and the rest of his lower body so that he was easily plopped on top of the other's stomach, the hastily-hardening member behind him poking against his entrance as he leaned forward to keep their lips attached. Alfred lifted his sides carefully, disconnecting their mouths momentarily to guide his lover to the erect organ.

There was a knock at the door.

Both angel and demon froze in place, their aroused vital regions dying down to normal. The Englishman made eye contact with the male beneath him, a strong hold on his hips protectively. "Whot the hell was that?" He whispered.

Alfred moved his shoulders up and down the best that he could, and gently slid out of bed. "Put this on," he murmured back softly, placing a kiss upon his head as he handed him his leather jacket, his white robe free of any grime but not fully dry yet. Whilst the older slipped on the jacket and buttoned and zippered it up, its large side making him look smaller than he was, the American, while he stumbled into his torn jeans, went to the door and asked who it was. A few seconds later, he came back and gathered Arthur into a tight envelopment of arms and the natural smell beside the coffee beans and grilled meat. "Don't move. Do not move at all." There was a sense of worry and warning in his tone that brought out the curious Brit, and he looked up into pastel scarlet irises.

"Whot's wrong? Who wos it?" He wondered. Alfred, trembling, nuzzled his face into the bush in front of him.

"Harvesters. They came to bring me away. I knew they would but I didn't pay any attention to the warnings." He sighed, and squeezed his eyes shut, cradling his lover's head close to his chest. "I'm so sorry, my Thornless Rose."

Arthur lost his breath as soon as the first word was spoken. A coil of fear raveled inside of his stomach and clenched it tightly, and he swallowed down the tears that demanded to be released. He bit down on his lip to help stop them. Harvesters were right outside of the door. They were waiting for something that would never come. The former guardian angel was paralyzed to the spot: he couldn't move, he couldn't see, he couldn't breathe. All he could hear was the heart that drummed for him every day as it made its own unique rhythm against his ear. He was terrified, and he realized how tightly he was gripping the demon. "I-I-I'm not letting you leave me." The managed words were shaking and trembling, and he couldn't believe how terrified he sounded. "Th-there's no way I'd ever let them take you away from me."

"I know you won't, Arthur." He pressed his kiss into the blond bushel. "I promise to protect you with my life."

Another loud knocked, followed by a rather perky "Privet_~! Comrade~! We are waiting for you~!_" Ivan was there too. He was going to try and separate them, was going to try and destroy them so they had nothing to live for, was going to break them into billions of pieces so they could never be repaired. But he had no idea just how strongly they were in love with each other.

"Ivan is right there," Arthur whispered, mostly to himself. "He can barge in if he wanted to." He whimpered nearly inaudibly, and tightened his hold on the bare waist in front of him. "I want him to go away."

"I know, my Lovely Rose," he pecked the blonde's forehead. "I know, I want him to go away just as much as you do."

There was a loud banging against the door that startled the two. "_Comrade~! Angel~! I do not have all night~!_"

"Alfred, whot are we going to do?" The Brit slightly trembled. "We can't get away without them noticing us. There's no way we c-"

_Crash._

"Ah! _Privet,_ friends~!" The Russian demon greeted them as he kicked the door down and barged in, followed by a crowd of the Sons of the Dark. Ivan's grin seemed both childish and menacing at the same. And upon seeing him, the lovers clutched at each other even tauter. "It is good to see you again."

"Whatever you want, Ivan," Alfred growled, "you're not going to get."

The Harvester frowned, but there was still a glint of mischief in his cold, blood red eyes that signaled a lust for blood. "Dat's not fair, _Amerikanskiĭ_. You should share wid me, _da_?"

"Arthur isn't a toy!" He snapped, causing the angel against him to wince at the volume. "He's my lover and my heart, and you're not going to have him!"

There was a flash of anger in Ivan's eyes, the irises darkening to blend in with the pupils' shade, and he sneered. "What I want, I get, A_merikanskiĭ_. De boss wants to see you."

He snorted, but there was something in the way his hand tensed against his side that made Arthur gaze up at his demon. His boss wanting to see him must be horrible if it was able to elicit a reaction like that from him. "He doesn't need to see me for anything. I haven't done anything besides do what he asked me to: capture an angel and make him your own."

"He did not mean it in way you are putting it. You know as well as anyone dat a demon is allowed to love anyding of its choice, but not allowed to sell his whole existence to lover." His icy, calculating eyes floated over to the blond. "Dat is what Alfred has done, _da_?"

Arthur's eyes narrowed in annoyance. "That is far from a real crime," he retorted. "Alfred is just as innocent as I am. He's done nothing wrong." _That line that he said…it sounded familiar._

"Is dat what putting you under bed means? Dat he loves you?"

"That was to hide him from you!" Alfred growled, and his wings extended outwards to protect them.

Ivan chuckled, and it was a lion's growl to the Brit's ears. "You both are too naïve. You do not see you will soon destroy each other." He gestured toward Alfred and Arthur with his head. "I will take Alfred. You get angel, _da_?"

The demons lunged for the duo, and Arthur lost sight of Alfred as they both struggled to keep away from their attackers. Two of the Harvesters grabbed his arms, and the other two at his sore wings, causing him to wince. Another twosome of bloodlust demons grabbed his legs, holding him above the ground and exposing his genitals in the process. He gasped as his body was stretched apart, and tried to escape by wiggling his body back and forth despite the pain that was in his feathered appendages.

Alfred, from what the English angel could see over the length of his body, was fighting Ivan the best he could, trying to gain air but not successfully. At first the two had been throwing clawed hands and throwing legs into one another, but finally the Russian gained the upper hand. His arms tucked underneath the American's and pulled him upwards so that his legs dangled in the air as his body was elevated. A kick to the stomach was aimed and hit directly into his gut, spewing the Harvester's air supply out of him and freeing one of Alfred's arms. When he removed the other one, he turned to the other Sons of the Dark, and growled fiercely at them as he faced them. Arthur writhed in the clawed grips of the other demons as they snarled and roared right back at the other. The blond stopped when a talon scraped along his midsection, showing the flawless skin, still sticky from when Alfred had licked him clean of any semen.

"You move and we can kill him right here," one of the Harvesters threatened, now spreading the whole of his clawed hand against the stomach. The angel thrashed his head and legs, still held in place as he attempted to escape the palm and fingers. Alfred stayed absolutely still, hands and teeth clenched, wings stiff, stance showing that he wasn't going to back down.

"Then give him back to me," he demanded in a low voice dressed in hate.

"If you come with us, he will stay unharmed. If you move towards him, I will not hesitate to stab him."

"A-Alfred," Arthur whispered. "Please…"malice Alfred's eyes faded back to their original pale scarlet, and his expression saddened.

"My loving Thornless Rose," he said right back at the same volume. Ivan regained his footing, and pulled him back, holding his arms behind him. "I'm sorry, Arthur…" The American's eyes kept perfect contact as he was led away backwards. "I'm so, so sorry, Delicate Rose."

He shook his head at the sight of his lover, the warm tears already filling up in his eyes. "Don't be, Poppet. I promise that we won't be separated for long. The more time you're away from someone, the closer you are to being with them again, right?" Despite the statement, Arthur felt miserable. His Lovely Alfred, his Poppet, his Luv, his Dear, his Darling. He was being taken away, and neither of the lovers could assist him. If he made any movement, the blond could possibly be injured terribly. If he didn't move and let himself be led away, he would still be wounded, only of a broken heart. Either way, the angel was getting hurt, and the demon was being taken away.

What happened next was nothing but a blur. Alfred had managed to slice his wings up in one fluid motion and glide to his lover, all in two seconds. However, the deed was already done, and Arthur now had a new wound, this time not so shallow and in his stomach, lungs struggling to take in breaths and body falling weak. The Brit's vision fogged over, in and out of focus, as he slowly blinked at his adoring, amorous lover. He could only see the American in front of him, holding him and whispering to him. Tears dripped down both faces, the knowledge that this would be their last contact together taking over their emotions and wracking it into reality.

The two lovers were silent for a long while, emerald eyes overflowing with sadness and agony that was too much for him to handle. That and the combined weight of the heartbreak he would soon bear, the experience of a damaged and shattered heart made the London Blitz seem like a fairy tale story. Alfred hiccupped, and brought a trembling hand to his lips so he could peck its surface. "M-my ever lovely Beautiful Angel, Arthur," he recited in a cracked voice. "I am so sorry that I failed to keep you safe."

Darkness tugged at him, but he stayed up at the surface, as if he was about to drown and a sea monster was going to bring him down. "N-n-n-never y-you m-mind," he managed to get the words out, and was even able to raise a small smile. "Th-this is o-o-only a…t-temporary farew-w-well."

The gentle, calloused hands that the older male had come so accustomed to now traced his sides, and the whitish ruby eyes hastily gained a glimpse at the wound before gazing back into jade. "You're so cold. Even with my jacket on, you're freezing."

"I-I said…n-never y-y-you m-mind, Luv." At least his pet name was still steady. Even with his thoughts becoming less intelligible and his words more slurred, he was still capable of speaking the name of his love to express his adoration. "A-ah…" He shut his eyes tightly as a wave of pain washed over him, sliding past every nerve system in his body and causing him to shake like a leaf. Alfred whimpered in response.

"I-I can't leave you. Not like this."

Right before the darkness consumed him, he managed to open his eyes one final time. "L-l-look at m-me, pl-please…" The barely scarlet, watery, leaking eyes contacted with his seeping, shiny, emerald pair. He smiled. "I-I want t-t-to w-watch y-you…Poppet. M-m-my Precious Luv…"

The only thing Arthur could hear was the ever-present nicknames and laughs and sweet sayings that his lover had given to him. The only thing he could feel was every pressing of lips and hand and arms and member, floating in the appropriate places of where they had been in pleasure. The only thing he could smell was coffee beans and grilled meat and something else that was natural, like sunshine and wheat combined to make a delicious aroma. The only thing he could see was Alfred. Alfred smiling and laughing and hugging and loving him.

* * *

><p>"<em>You are too weak, comrade. You have fallen in love with foolish angel. He was already meant to give heartbreak."<em>

"_Y-you don't understand." Sniff. "H-h-he's the most important person to me ever and you monsters had to take him away from me." Sniffle. "Half of me is gone, thanks to you. My heart…it's gone." Sob._

"_You need to learn what power is, _Amerikanskiĭ. _I suggest you learn it quick, if you do not want to learn consequences." Footstep. "Leave body here. Bring Alfred. He is what we need."_

_Sob. "A-Arthur…my Thornless Rose…my love…m-my heart…"_


	25. Plan

**Umm okay, can't say much because, well...a lotta you nearly died because of last chapter. I'm sorry :( But! Just a note, in the future, if Iggy dies, there will be no story :3**

**Anyways, short note, I own nothing here besides the plot. All characters go to Hidekaz Himaruya. Enjoy a bit of happiness :)**

* * *

><p>Chapter 25:<p>

Plan

Arthur woke up to a cold compression against his forehead. His still-closed eyes were heavy with fatigue, his throat sore, body weighed down by how tired he seemed to be. His stomach and heart were the only things that hurt him. His stomach, because that had been the location of the wound. His heart, because he was recalling the entire memory of losing his lover.

He didn't know where he was or how he had gotten there, or even why. He could only see his Darling, his Dear, his Poppet, being taken away from him. He tried to reach out but his hands were too hefty. No matter how many times he called out or cried or begged, he never returned to him, and he felt his heart break all over again.

"_Wǒ bù rènwéi tā huì dédàole ā lǔ,_" a familiar voice mumbled, a warm hand patting against the cold cloth on his head. He winced at the memory that surfaced from back before he had been brought to Hell. That time, the time he spent in Heaven, was a blur. He could barely remember what it looked like, what the clouds and platforms felt like; all taken away from him to make room for the feeling of gently hardened hands and smooth lips, and the swelling of the heart when he would speak and compliment him.

"Can you watch him, please?" Another voice asked. It sounded strangely like Matthew's, but he wasn't quite sure. There was something inside his mind, a large iron-and-steel block that he couldn't get through, that sheltered him from knowing anything else beside his lover. His lover… Where was Alfred now? Where did the Harvesters take him? Was he still living? Maybe he even escaped them and was trying to get back to him. But even that thought seemed too unlikely.

A gentle hand started to drag itself through his bushy blond locks and the bangs that dangled on his forehead, "Arthur…you got too careless, didn't you aru…"

There was only one person that the Brit knew said that one little word at the end of every other sentence. And if that wasn't Yao, then he absolutely hated Alfred. But that _was_ his Chinese friend, and he was madly, head-over-heels, arse-over-tit, deeply in love with his American demon. And so, very cautiously and slowly, he let his eyelids lift upwards, emerald eyes still showing him a blurry world. The demon in front of him, with horns pointed downwards and wings folded neatly against his back, was staring at him; he could tell by the blurrily-seen, claret red eyes that gazed at him. Most of the figure's jet-black hair was backwards, and his skin was that of a china doll.

"Arthur…? Can you remember anything aru?"

He blinked to readjust his sight, griping and moving his shoulders slightly. When everything focused again, he noticed that the only thing separating this Yao from past Yao was the fact that he was in demon form. Nearly everything, to the very last detail, was the same about him. It looked too good to be true, and he hesitantly reached out his hand. "Y-Yao…?" His voice was hoarse and his throat felt raw, and he grimaced.

The Chinese demon sighed, and flattened his hair down again, taking the outstretched limb in his other hand. "Arthur aru… You're going to kill me one day," he smiled.

"Wh…whot happened?" The texture of the bed beneath his body felt foreign, and the arrangement of the room wasn't like Alfred's. The room was nearly empty and spacious, just like the events of last night. Or maybe it was longer ago.

"That's what we're trying to find out aru." He placed a hand on the angel's stomach, and his long, thin fingers comfortingly rubbed the spot. Slowly and surely, the spot wasn't hurting as much anymore. "What we do know, is that…a team of Harvesters led by Ivan broke into your house last night, and they…stabbed you in the stomach, and brought Alfred to the Boss."

Tears pricked at the Brit's eyes as he tried to gulp them down but found he was unable to, and sniffed. It almost sounded as if he was hearing the story about someone else. He could imagine the events, and he couldn't remember. He wished it would stay like that.

"_Duìbùqǐ ā lǔ._" He meant the words, too, as he gazed at him in pity. "I didn't want to tell you, but there was no other way."

He shortly inhaled through his stuffy nose, ignoring the water track that slid down his cheek. "Whot else do you need to tell me?"

As soon as he had asked it, the Chinese angel started shaking his head again. "I can only tell you so much aru. All we know is what I just told you, and that we have to do something to help Alfred."

If he wasn't in so much pain from his stomach and heart, Arthur would have sat up in shock. "Why does he need help?" The demon shut his eyes and mumbled something in Chinese, but the angel tugged on his wrist. "Tell me, Yao. Please. I need to know." The blood red eyes looked at him, glistening in worry. The Brit used the words that he knew would get him what he needed to know. "Yao, I love him. Please…just tell me whot's going to happen to him."

Yao's hand wavered back to the blond bush of hair, tangling his fingers into it and sighing. "Demons hold trials for those who have done wrong, or who they think has done wrong aru. The Boss resides as the judge, and they discuss what to do with him. I had to sit through one when I first came here with Kiku aru. And it was the most unjust scene I've seen in my lifetime."

"P-please tell me…that that won't happen to him." The words lacked any hope. Why would Yao tell him something like that without telling him a reason?

The demon gulped inaudibly, and looked away. "It's scheduled for tomorrow aru."

Arthur screwed his eyes shut. This was too much to hear, too much to take in all at once. "Please, just stop, Yao."

The Englishman could recall everyone calling Yao the "mother" of their regent in Heaven. He had always wanted the angels they guarded to get along, to make sure the kids and others were okay. His touches were always light and feathery, as if he had been a maternal parental figure when he was still alive. And now, despite his physical change, he still had that same touch, the barely-contact touch that was filled with love and care and worry. "There's nothing to be upset about aru. Okay? We know what we're doing. We're going to go to that trial tomorrow aru. And we're going to rescue him."

* * *

><p>By what he had been told, Arthur had been found by Yao just before the end of the night. The latter didn't know how long his friend had been out, and neither of them wanted to know. If it weren't for the recovery system inside of his body, he might not be there. The injured angel had been brought back to Kiku's house, where the lovers had patched up his wound and made sure he was given water and some food thoroughly. By now, it was the end of the day, and Kiku and Yao snuck up with Arthur to the library that was hidden inside the Mountain of the Three Fates. They let him throw on Alfred's jacket over his clean, white robe, and had draped a blanket over his head to not only keep him warm, but to hide his halo and wings.<p>

The Chinese demon carried him upwards to Francis', since his wings were now halfway gone, and when he arrived at the cliff edge, he stopped in his place and stared at the home. With his knees locked, he found himself unable to go on and continue to their destination. He knew why they were going here; Yao had said some demons had been exiled from the Harvesters, specifically the ones Alfred had talked to, the ones Arthur knew well, and they were planning to gather inside the Library to come up with a plan to save Alfred. The Brit only hoped that they could perhaps start something similar to an uprising as revenge against the Boss, whoever he was.

"What's wrong aru?" Yao wondered, the two Asians having stopped when he had.

Arthur nuzzled himself into the large blanket and fluffy collar, and inhaled the comforting scent of his lover's jacket. He wanted to drown inside the leather and lay undisturbed until they had his dear Alfred returned to him, as handsome as always and unharmed. "Nothing much…just a bit skittish, is all," he mumbled, eyes averting down to his shoes, and started to walk again.

The three made their way into the house and through the corridor that led to the center of the mountain, where the blond Brit then returned the blanket to around his shoulders for comfort. The more he went down the hall, the more he dreaded going to this meeting place. He would be fine if he and Yao (there was no way he was going to abandon any demon on their side now) went to the main courthouse, did some investigating, and were able to save Alfred before the trial started. But he knew to get the Mandarin-speaking demon to agree with him, that wasn't unlike trying to potty-train a stubborn toddler. He would have to make the best of this, for now. If anything involved rescuing Alfred, directly or indirectly, he wasn't going to stop at the chance.

The demons slipped into a hidden structure of the wall at the end of the passageway, before helping Arthur through cautiously. The couple had started to descend the stairs, but the English angel stayed on top, watching the scene below and realizing how much he had missed in the past couple of days.

He hadn't known Feliciano and Lovino Vargas would ever become demons- the loud, Italian brothers that had fought for the Italian Resistance with their grandfather during the Second World War and died accidentally because of it (they had been sent to attach a bomb to an Axis information room, and blew up the entire structure, but had gotten lost and perished in the explosion). He wouldn't ever expect them to commit themselves to their lovers.

Suddenly, he felt a bit out of place being here. Matthew, the Vargas brothers, Yao, even Tino who was quietly chatting and kissing the demon beside him, had all changed because of love. Arthur wanted to be changed now.

"_Ciao_, Arthur~!" Feliciano waved, eyes a bright scarlet now and hair a brilliant white color, similar to Francis. He rushed over and pulled the wounded angel into a hug. "I'm so glad to see you~! It's been so long, I feel so bad!" The perky Italian held him out at arm's length. "_Mi dispiace per il tuo amante._"

Arthur smiled softly. "Thank you, Feli," he managed to say in a steady voice.

"I know it feels to be apart from someone you care for very much." His eyes, filled with sadness, looked at him from his bowed head position. "If you need to cry, I'm here."

"Thank you for the offer, but I think I'll be fine." _Of course I won't be. I feel so empty without Alfred._

"Well…that's good!" The demon's energy instantly bounced up to its original place. "That makes me so glad!" He tightly embraced the other, laughing, before he skipped back to his lover. Almost silently, the only angel in the room made his way over to Yao and Kiku, and sat down in a spare chair beside them. His stomach was in knots and he resisted the urge to nibble on

"Alright," the strong, controlled voice of Ludwig entered the room. "if everyvun is here _und_ accounted for, zen we may begin."

The chatter silenced down in respect, attention on the German demon. Arthur was amazed at how much power and control he had, almost as if everyone had great respect for him. Either that, or everyone knew the consequences of disobeying him.

"Now, I'm sure you all know zat one of our own has been taken from us for, eh…unknown, complicated reasons." A glance in his direction told him that the wording was so as not to make it any harder for him to deal with. He was grateful for that. "Ve have lost ze original starter of zis group, and ve intend to get him back. Agreed?"

A collected, approving rumble spread throughout the demons there, and the blond had to suppress a grin. Everyone there was present for one, and the same, reason as him: to get Alfred back as easily as possible.

"So far, it has been confirmed zat we are all going tomorrow, two of us to escort and protect Arzur, Alfred's lover." A few of the demons glanced over at him, but others greeted him with a smile (Matthew, the Spanish demon that was in love with Lovino) or a kind hand gesture (the Danish demon Mathias, Tino, Feliciano). "After za trial, ve vill have to find a vay to ze jail _und_ get him out, acting as if ve are escorting him to a new division. Bervald," Ludwig turned on the taller demon beside Tino, the English angel recognizing him, "I assume you _und_ your Scandinavian companions vill be able to get us in?"

"_Ja_," he nodded, voice rumbling deep and low. "Th' b'ss d'sn't kn'w 'bout 's d's'b'ying h'm."

The German Son of the Dark looked over at Tino. "Could you please, eh…"

The Finnish demon smiled with a light laugh. "The boss doesn't know about us disobeying him," he translated. "But if you think, I don't think he would even notice us gone."

He nodded. "_Sehr gut._ _Und, _as for ze prison aftervards?"

"That's not a problem, Lud," Mathias chuckled. "_Ehrfürchtige_*****, Lukas, Emil, _og_***** I will distract the guards long enough for Frannie _og_ Mattie to get in, get Alfred _og _get out. Then, you, Feli, Antonio, _og _Lovino will be destroying the defense, while Berwald, Tino, Kiku _og _Yao will try _og_ find the files _og _destroy the joint."

Arthur blinked in shock. Just how much were they planning to do tomorrow? They couldn't possibly think that they would get all of that done, did they? Rescuing Alfred while providing a distraction and wrecking the security was good enough, but what was that thing about files? Whatever it all meant, Ludwig agreed to every word.

"_Sehr gut_," the German demon nodded, running a hand through his jet-black hair before he looked over at Yao and Kiku. "Have you explained anyzig to him yet?"

"Only that we were saving Alfred aru," the Chinese male answered, twirling a finger around the end of his hair absentmindedly. "Nothing more, just like we were told."

"_Gut_, I didn't vant much questions being asked, but it seems like somevun has already caused that." The scarlet eyes (since when had they changed from pale red to ruby?) wavered over briefly to the clueless Dane before going to the angel. "I suspect you have questions, _ja_?"

Arthur was silent for a moment. There was so much he wanted to ask, so much he wanted to know. His mind was a whirlwind of questions and thoughts and processes and wonders, and it took a moment to process the thoughts into what he wanted to comprehend. He wanted to know what Mathias was talking about, why he was even here, if he could go rescue Alfred himself—too much to know, and yet not enough time to know of it. "I want to know…a few things," he began, and shuffled a bit in uneasiness at the pairs of eyes that looked at him. "First…I want to know. Whot is the exact plan to save Alfred?"

Ludwig seemed to contemplate on this for a bit, rubbing a hand through his hair and sighing through his mouth before he leaned against the table with his arms crossed. "Tomorrow, vhen ve go to za trial, ze only vuns who vill have access to Alfred are ze five from Scandinavia: Bervald*****, Tino, Emil, Mazias****** _und_ Lukas. Zey vill give us access to ze prison yard for vhen Francis _und_ Mazew****** go in and save him. Mazias, _mein bruder_, Lukas _und_ Emil vill provide distractions. Meanvhile, Bervald, Tino, Kiku _und_ Yao vill be searching for files zat contain information of zeir plans to continue to ransack Heaven, za Surface, _und_ ze plan to continue to accuse demons of crimes zey have not committed. At za same time, Antonio, Lovino, Feli _und_ I vill vork on destroying za defense zat is around ze area. Ozer demons zat are a part of zis group vill be keeping a lookout or vill be doing anozer task assigned to zem."

The only angel in the room was silent, keeping the blanket closer to him than before. That was a lot to do. Distract the guards, rescue Alfred, gather information on attacks and trials, destroy the protection that the area owns, and even more than that. "That sounds like quite a lot," he whispered. "Is there anything I could do? I mean…I can't quite go to the trial looking like myself."

"Zat is taken care of. Lukas has a tonic zat vill disguise you so zat your outer appearance vill make you appear to be a demon. It vill last for about twelve hours, but it can be broken if physical contact- in vhat vay, ve don't know- is made. Aftervards, you vill go viz Yao _und_ help zem zere."

Arthur's heart stopped in its place. He wasn't going to be able to get his lover back. Of course. He should have known that it would turn out to be that way. But that wasn't fair. It was _his_ lover that was kidnapped. It was _his_ lover that had been taken away from him. It was _his_ responsibility to be the one to go and rescue him. He didn't mind someone else accompanying him to save him, but if someone else wasn't taking him, he had a right to say something about it. "No."

The German demon's face took one of mild surprise. "Pardon?"

"If I'm going to be going anywhere besides the trial tomorrow…then I want it to be with Matthew and Francis."

"Ohohohon~ I only make _l'amour_ wiz _mon l'amour vrai_, _Mathieu,_" Francis chuckled, rubbing his nose into Matthew's neck, humming and giving it a lick with his lips. The Canadian laughed.

"Francis, I don't think he means it like that," he replied with a grin, petting the side of the Frenchman's face gently, looking at the Briton. "Arthur wants to help us save Alfred, eh?"

The blond nodded. "Exactly," he murmured, and smiled back at his friend.

Ludwig looked from one to the other with a look of skepticism upon his features. "_Nein,_ ve can't do zat," he denied the offer. "It's already risky to bring you along viz us. If you go to za prison, you could be found out or killed."

"Francis will watch him," Matthew responded, shrugging his puzzled lover off of his neck gently. "He won't let him get out of his sight."

"It's still too risky. I can't. I'm sorry."

"Luddie, pull za stick outta your ass _und_ let him go," Gilbert rolled his eyes, leaning on his back against the table top.

"_Sì_, I agree with Gilbert, Ludwig," Feliciano added. "Arthur wants to see his lover. You can't let him wait to see him!" He grabbed the taller male's hand and gave him a pitiful look that was too heartbreaking to ignore.

The German's stern exterior faltered for a bit. "Eh, _ja_, but it's not safe. Zere vill be demons around za area, watching zem. Zey have to be very secret about it."

"But Luddie, if you were in Alfred's place, wouldn't you want to see _me_ when you get rescued?"

He opened his mouth to protest, opening his mouth but not making the correct words. Finally, he gave up with a sigh, and rested his forehead against the Italian demon's own. "Vhat makes me love you so much?"

Feliciano laughed, wrapping his arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "_Ti amo_~."

Ludwig glanced back up at Arthur, and the latter saw how less-stressed he appeared. "You may go viz Matthew _und _Francis if you vould like. I von't hold it against you."

Even though he was expecting it, he felt himself lose his breath, and he nodded. "Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you so much."

As the demons continued with the meeting, a light hand bumped into his. He didn't have to look to know who it was. "Are you sure that you want to do that aru? It will be difficult," Yao spoke softly into his ear. "The tonic may not cover smell aru."

The English angel leaned forward to his ear; "If I was unsure, Yao…I wouldn't have said something against it."

The Chinese demon sat back, contemplating on this it seemed, and then pulled the angel into a hug. "You're so faithful aru. I'm glad to be able to call you my friend."

With Yao as his close friend and Alfred as his lover, Arthur couldn't disagree.


	26. Newcomer

**New chapter, this WOULD be the trial scene, but...it's not. Spoiler!**

**But here's some Demon!Arthur for you. Spoiler!**

**I'm going to just go watch Forrest Gump now. Uninteresting fact: I love Tom Hanks~! :D**

**I own nothing BUT the plot. Hidekaz Himaruya owns all familiar characters besides the Boss. He's somewhat mine. Also, there's a part with Al at the end of the chapter that is not mine. I got it from a picture I found off of Tumblr. So it's not mine, really. It's...whoever drew the pic ^-^**

**So, as usual, enjoy~!**

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><p>Chapter 26:<p>

Newcomer

Arthur could barely sleep after the meeting had dispersed. He was too anxious and fidgety and just plain impatient. He was nearly willing to risk his safety to sneak out and go see his lover, even though he knew he would be able to see him later at the trial. But, nonetheless, he stayed where he was in the comforting embrace of his best friend, watching his feet and listening to the dull chatter that filled the emptying library.

Those who had taken part at the meeting were going to stay there and wait until morning. The others- the five from Scandinavia- would go back to their home, more or less because Lukas had to make the remedy before they left for the trial. The others would stay in the library for the so-called "night", Matthew and Francis retreating upstairs to their room. Arthur and Yao moved to a comfier place, the angel lying beside his friend, curled up with the blanket on top of both of them, the demon sitting partially in Kiku's lap, his legs dangling on top of the other's legs and their hands intertwined. The Brit didn't mind much; he had a feeling the couples were being cautious in case they offended him or made him feel left out. He didn't mind; not with the fact that soon, oh so very soon, he would be able to finally hold his lover and kiss him and let him feel nothing but weightlessness.

Yao gently woke up his friend from his stage of half-asleep. The library was silent save for the sound of wings flapping as he stretched in front of the angel. They- Yao and Arthur- were the only ones here. The Briton yawned and sluggishly got himself up, taking a whiff of the jacket that he had used as a sort of blanket to hold in his arms last night and stuff his nose into the collar, as if he was still there beside him. If he could, he would stay there and let the sweet smell overcome his senses. But his place was not here. His place was right in Alfred's arms, where he was safe and always wanted.

"Ludwig left this for you aru," Yao lethargically informed him as he handed the blond a clear, glass vial that was filled with a light brown liquid, the color of iced tea. "He says to drink it quickly so we can leave."

He opening the cork top and taking a whiff from inside the bottle. It smelled of something unfamiliar and foreign to his nose, and he couldn't help but cringe. Its stench was enough to convince him that it was going to be a bit spicy. And sure enough, as he cautiously raised it to his lips and let it pour down his throat, he gave a muffled whine and stopped, eyes clamped shut, the drink burned at his tongue and left an uncomfortable taste. "Whot is that?" He managed to croak.

"If you drink it quickly, it won't taste as bad aru." The Chinese demon stood beside him and took a sniff from the vial. "If you don't drink all of that, it's going to mess your body up. It doesn't have to be all gone to start working."

With a shaky inhale and exhale, Arthur gulped the rest back and dropped the small bottle, eyes swimming with tears and burning with his throat. Yao rubbed his back soothingly and whispered to him in Mandarin to soothe him, but he could barely make out the exact words uttered. His wings flapped out and his halo rotated a bit, but that was all the pain he suffered before it stopped abruptly and he fell against his friend in exhaustion, panting as his legs wobbled to try and support him. "Did…did it work?" He felt slightly different; his wings felt heavier, his clothes had definitely changed (since he could feel a fabric holding onto his legs), and there was a darkness that shrouded over him, making him feel out of place and foreign. And something that strangely felt like a tail was definitely sticking out from behind and swishing back and forth.

Yao held him out at arm's length, looking him up and down in silence for a minute or so. He inspected his arms, his back and front, his hair and his face. "Come on aru. The lake will show you."

The two went up the stairs and through the house, where they went outside and Yao brought him to the lake that was nearby and a few feet away. The true demon bent down and dragged his hand through the water quickly to distort the image a bit before pulling it out and looking at his friend.

"Look into the water and tell me what you see aru."

Arthur did as he was told, and as soon as his eyes saw his new appearance, he gasped and backed away in fright.

Yao looked at him impassively, but there was something of a small smile upon his face.

Arthur, eyes wide and alarmed, looked over at him. "Whot the hell was that?"

"What did you see?" He asked the Brit, who cautiously made his way back to the edge of the river and gazed down at his reflection. This time, he stared right back at it.

"It's me, but…at the same time, it's not."

He was most certainly a demon- in appearance, at the least. His skin had become a bit paler and his face was framed by a bush of blood-red scarlet hair. A pair of horns stuck out from his head, directed upwards and curved toward each other slightly. His clothing had definitely changed as well, just as he had predicted: what was once a white robe garment with a gold tie around his waist was now a black tie looped around the collar of a red, button-down shirt that was underneath a black jacket with matching trousers. His wings poked out from behind him and above his shoulders, and a poked tail dashed around behind him. He raised a faintly trembling finger upwards and let his hand run over the sharp horn. He shivered at the touch, feeling it course through his body as if his halo had been touched. His tail swished back and forth and curled beside his legs, whilst his wings flapped out behind him.

He really was…a demon. The tonic had worked!

"It feels weird at first, but you get used to it aru,"Yao explained curtly. "You shouldn't have much of a problem with it."

"I can't believe…," he whispered, and ran his fingers through his hair. The same texture, but a different color. "Damn…it's really me."

The Mandarin-speaking demon smiled and chuckled. "You barely look different aru."

"I look amazing!" With a grin, he glanced back up at his close friend. "I mean, look at me! It's almost as if I've been changed already!"

However, now his friend was no longer smiling, but frowning, eyebrows furrowed forward and expression one of surprise and alarm.

"Whot's wrong?" One of his pale hands wavered over to his mouth. "Do I not have any fangs?"

"Your eyes…" He managed to get out after a moment of silence.

Yao didn't have to finish his sentence when the English angel in disguise gawked back down at his reflection. And sure enough, his eyes were still their emerald green color. They were supposed to be some sort of red.

This was a problem.

Arthur glanced back at his friend. "But…how…"

"I don't know aru. It's…unbelievable. They shouldn't be green right now aru." He took the smoothly shaped face and examined it. "Incredible…they should be red. I don't understand aru."

The angel in disguise, eyes downcast, plopped down on a rock that was beneath him and let his head fall to rest into his hands, feeling as if the whole plan that everyone had worked so hard to organize was now ruined, all thanks to him. He should have known that his eyes wouldn't have changed. They were part of the inside of his body. It wasn't possible to change the iris color.

"Maybe because it's temporary change aru," Yao stated, sitting beside him and leaning forward, hands resting on either side of the outside of his thigh.

"It doesn't matter," the Brit mumbled, picking his head up to rest it in the palm of his right hand. "I'm not going to be able to go save Alfred now. Not with my eyes like this."

The Chinese demon shoved his shoulder lightly. "Shush up aru. I don't want to hear that kind of talk. You're going to rescue Alfred, whether or not I have to drag you there aru!"

"Yao, it's too obvious! I'll get caught easily!"

"That shouldn't matter to you! You should want to go no matter what aru!"

"Well it _does_ matter to me because if my eyes are like this and someone sees, then I'm done!"

The two were silent for a minute, scarlet eyes locked with emerald for what seemed to be forever. A wave of guilt dressed over him, and the Englishman sighed, averting his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he apologized quietly.

"Me too aru," Yao agreed, hand reaching up to toy with the end of his ponytail as his eyes averted away. "I guess we both got little too out of hand."

"Agreed. I'm just… I'm just upset that one silly little thing can't get me into seeing my lover without any problems." He kicked a rock that was by his jet-black military boots that went up just under his knee.

Yao's thin fingers raked through the shaggy, scarlet locks, ruby eyes watching his friend with curiosity. "Not necessarily aru."

"Whot do you mean?" He watched as the hand came back again to gain vengeance on his hair.

The Mandarin-speaking demon stood up and fixed Arthur's hair so that his front bangs were covering his sight only slightly. "Mm…that should work aru. Can you see much?"

"Not really." He blinked and raised a hand, about to brush the hair out of his face before Yao stopped him.

"Keep it aru. It hard to see your eyes."

"But I can't see." He was correct in that, for the red bangs shrouded him from seeing anything pass that. It was quite aggravating for him as well; his bangs kept on trickling past and tickling his cheek.

"But think about it aru. If you can't see, and I can't see your eyes, don't you think that's a good thing?"

Arthur opened his mouth to say more, but stopped, and closed it. Yes, that was a good point. But surely one of the guards would be suspicious of a demon with his hair in his face and covering his eyes. So far, the Briton hadn't seen a single demon in his similar predicament. So, didn't that idea seem a bit too obvious?

But why the hell was he delaying this? Why couldn't he just forget all of the little details? In the end, that wouldn't matter anymore. He hadn't seen his lover since two days ago! He had that empty feeling that he had had before Alfred. That empty hollow feeling in his heart that showed him that he wasn't loved had returned, and he had no idea how, but it had come back for vengeance. He needed to be hugged and kissed and held and loved properly. It was almost as if his memory of what it had been like to experience that had been robbed from him, and he needed to get it back.

He glared up at his close friend through the scarlet bangs that dangled in his face. "Where's the trial taking place?"

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><p>As it turns out, the same building that had held Arthur's trials for when he was being evaluated and tested was the same location of the trial. The distance it took to get to their destination wasn't as bad as he had thought it would be. Yao stayed close to him, guiding him slightly when he needed it. Luckily, the pressure of air against his face only moved a few strands, but otherwise, much of the world was barely seen through his shaggy scarlet bangs. He wondered what Alfred would think when he sees him like this. Would he be surprised? Upset? Angry? Relieved? Well, that last one was obvious. But the fact that he didn't know how his lover would react made a knot grow upwards inside his stomach.<p>

"Be careful you don't stiffen your wings aru," the Chinese Son of the Dark informed him. "Stretch them out a bit, let them spread out on either side, carefully, slowly. That's it aru." The angel in disguise did as he was told so that he now had a smoother flight pattern and less pressure pushing against him. Yao, as if sensing his thoughts, smiled weakly at him after their eyes (or what could barely be seen from the Briton's shaggy mess) met again. "_Duìbùqǐ_. You'll get to see him soon though, aru."

Soon. Oh so soon, he would finally lay his eyes on his lover once again. "Yeah…" He focused his attention back up ahead, but there was a smile on his face. "I can't wait."

A few minutes later, the two came across the area that was obviously designed as a landing strip. As the two landed down on it, the Briton was surprised to find so many demons surrounding it. Over here, he had never seen any of them talk so casually with one another. Some were chatting with each other, others were fighting viciously, and others were silent and going into the glass-domed building. Yao, while guiding the Englishman, and Arthur maneuvered their way through the crowd to the doors. They walked down a long hall with doors on either side, the angel in disguise recognizing it from the first time he had been there. They made their way to the center of the building, where the glass of the half-circle was, and flew up to the top balcony that wrapped around the entire room, when they found the other demons allied with them. When the two landed, while Yao instantly rushed to Kiku, Matthew couldn't help but gawk at his friend in shock.

"Arthur?" He asked, eyes wide and expression one of disbelief. "I-is that really you?"

The Brit laughed lightly. "No one else," he replied with a kind smile.

"W-wow." He looked him up and down hastily, and grinned. "You can't even tell the difference."

He glanced down at his body the best he could: the clothes were entirely different from what he would have originally worn as an angel; from what he could see through them hanging in his face, it was hard to tell if the red was his natural hair color or not. There was extra weight to his back (his feathered wings were much more lighter); there had been something rough and painful on the top of his head that numbed into nothing but a little bit of pressure now and then; even a tail had just been pushed out from behind him. Anyone, unless they looked at his eyes, would not be able to tell the difference.

Arthur opened his mouth to agree and thank the Canadian, but was stopped when from below and beneath the balcony came a chorus of roars and snarls. A loud voice started thundering "Respect your leader, respect your leader" repetitively. The angel in disguise looked up at Matthew, who had taken a step back into the shadows as the majority of the demons on the balcony did. The Brit mimicked them, finding Yao next to him again, but his focus was immediately reverted back to the beginning of the session. The demons processed in rows of two in a disorderly and unorganized style down the made aisle. The Englishman recognized Gilbert and the five Nordic demons as they walked in and sat, three in one row and three in the other, on the left side of the room. Another group of six strode in and down the passageway and sat in the same way (three to one row, three to the other) as the ones on the left did.

The next few demons were most likely guards, and stood on either side of a large desk that was risen up on a platform, the writing table made of black granite. Arthur's hands, trembling faintly, grappled onto Yao's, and the two squeezed their palms together as if to assure the Briton. The sight that was seen next was one that made him nearly drop to his knees and sob openly.

Alfred.

His beautiful, handsome Alfred. His Luv, his Poppet, his Precious Lover, his Darling Alfred. The English angel incognito chomped on his lips to stop a whimper and tears from coming out of him. This sight, that hopeless sight of his bound lover made him want to destroy something at that instant and save him. Yes. Save him. He needed that silly, lovable, enthusiastic, compassionate, perfect, American demon for himself. They didn't need all that he gave.

He _thrived_ for that. He _starved_ for it. He _ached_ for it. Alfred's touch, Alfred's lips, Alfred's words, Alfred's presence, Alfred's love, Alfred's everything, Alfred, Alfred, _Alfred-!_

He was bound in multiple places and ways that seemed to be harming him, judging from the gripes of pain that were pushed past the black gag cloth. His eyes were blindfolded, and his mouth was as well, the latter forming down his neck into a strange collar of sorts, a leash attached to the end of it and being held by a guard. His wings had multiple black strips of some kind of material that bound them together and tautly and gave him immobility. His arms had been pulled back, elbows bent and wrists with uncomfortable-looking, tightly-tied shreds of fabric. His legs were strapped so close together, it was impossible for him not to be in intense pain. The Mandarin-speaking demon's hand clasped his again for comfort. But it was impossible to bring him to stop worrying.

Alfred.

Alfred had been brought in by his upper arms, being dragged by that way with his head thrashing and voice yelling and legs dragging and body dropping uselessly when the demon guards tossed him forward in front of the desk. A small gasp escaped Arthur's lips. Now Matthew's hand found his way to grip his own. He needed any sort of comfort for now, even though it would do him no good.

Suddenly, at that moment, unexpectedly, the room chilled down to a freezing temperature. It even grew quiet besides Alfred's panting and groaning. Arthur shivered, unraveling his wings slightly so that the heat they gave off warmed him up in some way. He could only expect one person to walk into a room and do exactly that. "Yao," he whispered ever so quietly so that only the two of them heard it. The Chinese Son of the Dark looked over at him, and nodded. He knew just who the fake demon was expecting to see.

His skin was red, and his hair was black, short and turning into a V as it sloped down his head. His clothes were leather and smelled of horrible things: death, blood, mutilation, bile, fire, burning flesh…even smells that he didn't even know of. It made him want to vomit himself. And he would have even if he wanted to, because this was the first time he was actually seeing the Boss, a man that he feared even more than the German and Italian who had wanted to conquer the world. _It can't be him…no, no, no! Not him!_

But it was.

He turned to the large crowd and chuckled loudly, spreading his arms and wings out. "My Children," he sneered in a gravelly, deep voice. "How glad I am to see you."

"That's him aru," Yao whispered to no one specifically. He gulped. "I-I can't…"

It was him. The most feared man in probably the whole universe.

Satan.

Satan was the Boss.


	27. Trial

**I do not own Hetalia. Hidekaz Himaruya does. I own any non-familiar characters. But Satan is free ground, I guess XD**

**Here's a random-ass scene that was forced out of me. Now I have to eat. As usual:**

**Enjoy~!**

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><p>Chapter 27:<p>

Trial

Arthur was frozen to the spot as Satan- the Boss that had taunted Alfred- the one who every demon here was afraid of, no matter how loyal or trustworthy they were to him- sauntered around the room in an almost elegant sort of way. His footsteps were precise and smooth without any flaws. His hands were entwined together, coming out every once in a while to gesture about whatever he was talking about. The way he moved with his wings and hips made it almost hard for the Brit to take his eyes of him. He had forgotten how convincing this man that ruled over Hell had been, how he had once been an angel like him until he had fallen. It was hard to believe that that man had really been similar to him.

"My dear Children, we have all gathered here in the Dome to commend one Child of Mine that did not obey My simple orders," he said, and nearly all of the Sons of the Dark snarled and growled at Alfred, still on the floor in the same position he had been thrown. A smirk grew on Satan's face, and he placed a foot on the wiggling American's bare arms. Alfred grunted in surprise, yet still attempted to get away. "Yes, yes, it is a rather…painful thought to process. But he did one of the worse acts a demon of mine could have made. He fell in love…with an angel."

At that moment, as Arthur tensed at his slight mention. Yao and Matthew both comforted him, gripping his hand a bit tighter and whispering to him, one in Mandarin and the other in English switching to French. Alfred was able to throw the leg off of him, and start to move like a caterpillar, scrunching his body upwards so he could try and stand again.

"However, although he is going to be condemned, it would not be fair if we did not hear _his_ side of this strange story, and perhaps give him a second chance. So," he stood behind the demon on the ground, "Alfred Jones of the United States of America, former member of the US Air Force, if you may, please tell us your tale."

_US Air Force?_ The Brit's eyebrows furrowed in contemplation. _He doesn't mean that, does he?_

Being pulled up by the leather whip-like object that was connected to his throat, the cloth from his mouth and eyes were removed, allowing the American demon to breathe properly without any problems. He was leaning over his legs, panting silently while the rest of the room of the Dome was silent. Arthur's heart nearly stopped at the sound of his lover inhaling and exhaling, no matter how simple it was. He spoke after he had caught his breath.

"You can ask me anything…you can tear me apart…you can do whatever you like to me…and I can carry as many wounds as I can handle on my body…but there is only one thing that will never change…and that is my love for my angel." Alfred breathed out the words in confidence, and when he was finished and he leaned over again, Arthur's legs gave out from beneath him, and he fell lightly to the floor. Both Matthew and Yao dropped down beside him, one holding him up and the other caressing his face, both trying to talk to him. But the only thing he could hear was Alfred. Alfred so kind and so far away from him. If only he could just forget about everything here and go to him. Then maybe, that hole inside of him that had opened up again would close.

"Alfred Jones of the United States," Satan jeered, and walked over until he was in front of the demon on the ground. "I'm sure you have greatly realized your mistake. You captured an angel and you fell in love with him."

"There's nothing wrong with that," he growled, glancing up at the demons' leaders. "All I did was finally having someone beside me who didn't hate me." Arthur could see something was wrong with him; there were a few thin scratches on his cheeks and one on his nose, both of his horns had carvings embedded in them, one having the tip severed off, and there were more scratches upon his body, specifically his chest. But his eyes…Arthur lost his breath in a new way than how it usually vanished.

Those eyes were still red.

Those eyes were _not pale red._

Those eyes were scarlet, a deep blood red color.

_It stands for a demon that fell in love…_

"Ah, yes," the Boss nodded, starting to walk again, one of his blood-red-skinned hands underneath his chin. "I understand what you mean. I have heard of your story before. Your parents were never one to accept their own child, were they?"

Alfred growled deep into his throat, but the sound seemed to go unnoticed.

"And so, once you became a demon, you made it your duty to find someone, no matter who it was, angel or demon or human, for you to love unconditionally, without any problems. Now, I do not have a problem with that. However, when you promise that this one person is your love, that you will stay by his side for as long as you can, you are practically selling your soul to them. And this, dear Alfred," he cupped the American's cheeks with his sharp nails, causing the captive to hiss and snarl, "is not the right thing for you to do with another species. Es_pe_cially if this one being that you happen to fall in love with is categorized as…angel."

The room erupted into half-chatter and growls, with the other half in silence. Alfred maneuvered his face away swiftly as Satan stood up straight. He looked over to the six sitting on his right side- Gilbert, Mathias, Lukas, Berwald, Tino, and Emil- and smirked.

"I apologize for your subject's behavior." He bowed in front of the currently mute demons. "If you would like to defend him, do so now or else stay in silence."

Lukas raised his hand, and stood up when he received an approving nod; "About a week and a half ago, sir, the day that Alfred first met his lover, there were other demons in his area that also found angels and also fell in love with them. Why should Alfred be tried for this if he is not the only one who fell in love with an angel?"

Satan looked away, as if pained. "Three of those cases cannot be considered because the demons that captured the angels had already been in love with them. The one case that did make a difference, however, wasn't thought over and brought into focus because of the angel falling in love with him." He now looked back over with a smile and a vengeance, looking as if he had the right answer. "However, Alfred's angel denied his lover at first, even though he was actually submissive to him without even knowing that he was. The fact that Alfred was lovesick and Arthur didn't know he was gave enough light and evidence for us that led us here."

"You mean you're just going to hold him accounted for something that he never did?" Mathias, who looked strangely serious from his usual joyful appearance, inquired next. "You can't blame him for one action if others have done it before."

"Mathias Køhler;" he glowered, "I am clearly aware of how much you seem to dislike me and my cause. But that does not mean you must comment."

"You can't accuse anyone of doing a crime that others have committed and haven't gotten punished for."

"If I am in charge of Hell, then I have the right to do so."

"That's not fair!" Tino stood up, expression of irritation and anger on his features. "That was the demon species that Alfred was in! You can't commend him for something he didn't have control over!"

The Devil quirked an eyebrow at the Finn. "You must be a newer breed of demon. I can smell you from here." Before the shorter could protest, he continued. "Still, surely you must know that I am not a being that is to be spoken back to."

The Finnish demon glared. "Just let him go without any charge! There are some of us who need him!"

Berwald nodded. "H' 's imp'rt'nt," he agreed curtly.

Alfred glanced up at Tino through his eyelashes. "Don't try and fight…because there is no one who needs me," he remarked in a dark, quiet voice. "Without my Beautiful, my Thornless Rose, my Arthur, living beside me safely, I have nothing to live for." Now, his eyes wavered back to the head demon. "That's why I have to avenge him."

Arthur's heart clenched in agony. To Alfred right now, he wasn't alive. To his lovely, so dear poppet, he hadn't passed out, like he had in reality; he had…died. But his lover, his Lovely, he didn't know. Someone had to tell him, someone who could convince him that he, Arthur, was going to save him He had to know! Even as the world spun slightly out of focus, and he had to lean back against Matthew to try and calm his swarming head. He needed to get there, or someone needed to, and tell his lover that his Thornless Rose was alive, and he was going to rescue him.

Satan chuckled, kicking his feet in front of him as he strode in front of his prisoner; "You will hardly be doing any sort of avenging, my Child. You must escape to do a risky move like that."

"Someone's going to set me free," Alfred snapped. "Just you watch."

"No one will do such a thing unless there were allied with you. Which is the particular reason that I have not let your other friends down here."

"Someone's coming to save me…and if that doesn't happen, I can always escape _myself!_" At that moment, Alfred let his let come out in front of him so that he could kick the Devil square in the face, sending him backwards on his feet but not to the ground. The crowd watching the trial roared in disagreement and support of the idea. The heart that Alfred owned beat in the angel in disguise's chest, and swelled with pride, even when he was held down and restrained in his place by a swarm of guards that used to their feet to pin his upper and lower body to the floor.

The room quieted down so that no noise could be heard as the boss of the demons wiped off whatever had gotten onto his face, chuckling while doing so. He slowly strode over, the sound of his feet echoing around the room. When he was standing in front of his captive, the guards backing away, the red-skinned demon raised his leg and propped up onto the American's chest, pushing it down and setting it in between his two pectoral muscles, the chest beneath the boot rapidly gathering in air. There was an audible snap that rang through the air, and Alfred grunted as his wings were forced to bend slightly out of place. "You are funny, Alfred. No one has the instincts to not only betray me, but to also save you."

"Just…w-watch." He tried to take in air as his lungs were pressurized.

Satan laughed darkly, holding his hand out for the whip to be placed in his hand. He ran it through his fingers, looking down at his captive as he moved the American to his back. "Have you ever felt the welts from a whip, Alfred?" He asked.

An uprising of approval and its opposite instantly rose into the air and throughout the Dome. A majority of the demons on the balcony went to the banister and yelled. Tino and Mathias stood up, the former actually in the air and trying to get to Satan, but the other four prevented them from moving any further. Gilbert was trying to help Lukas pull back the Dane whilst yelling profanities at him. Alfred's eyes were wide and it looked as if his breathing was erratic as a foot was set in the middle of his back. The whip was cracked into the air just above the captive, and the latter yelped as if he had been hit. Laughter and protests blended together as if in a blender, meshing together into one big noise.

Still on the ground, Arthur leaned forward, hands gripping either side of the bar that acted as a barrier to the railing, watching the struggle and wondering just what he could do to help his lover. By now, he was desperate to do anything to help him. And he was sure later on, he would scold himself for it, but he just had to do this.

"Sir!" The Brit pulled himself to his feet, hand in the air as if he was the one who was going to stop the whip from scarring his lover. "Sir, _wait_! _NO!_"

He felt dozens of eyes slowly turn to him, especially those of Matthew's and Yao's, staring at him questioningly. When it was quiet, he leaped off the balcony, gliding forward until he stood tall and protective in front of Alfred, making sure his hair dangled in front of his emerald eyes that could possibly give him away any minute. Finally. Finally, he had gotten right where he needed to be. Right there, beside his Alfred, his love, his dearest, his poppet, his lover, was where he always needed to be.

Upon seeing the sudden view of another demon, the Devil smirked and laughed a bit, before towering over the new arrival and the disturber of his torture session. "You must be a newcomer as well, for you seem to not know the consequences of speaking against me. And unless you are an accomplice of these six and Alfred, then you may not speak."

"I support their cause," he admitted in a voice that trembled in fear if listened to critically. He could feel Alfred's eyes, could sense the relief that was flowing from him. Gilbert grinned from his seat and chuckled a bit, Mathias and Tino doing the same. Lukas, Emil and Berwald smiled and nodded in approval. "And I believe you should let him free."

Satan stepped up close to the English angel in disguise, taking a light sniff of him. "You still smell of angel…you are very ripe." He let a clawed index finger trail under and across his chin and jaw.

"I would appreciate it if you would refrain from seducing me and release our companion." To hide his anxiety and to keep up an act of being a demon, he looked down at Alfred's puzzled expression, obscuring the view of his eyes as he did so. "He doesn't deserve any of this."

Who are you to say what Alfred Jones does and does not deserve?" He chuckled with a mocking tone. "You cannot be anything but an ally to him."

_I am much more than that. Much more than you will ever know._ "It doesn't matter whot kind of person he is to me! I need to set him free if out cause is to continue on."

"And what might that cause be?"

"…Fighting for the right to make decisions as an individual. To make decisions as an individual. Whot else would you like for me to name?"

The head of the demons was silent, seeming to contemplate this thought. Alfred had made eye contact with Arthur, and the Brit's heart hammered in his chest. _He's right there oh dear God; my Lovely, my Precious, Luv, Poppet, Darling Alfred. I hope this isn't a dream so I can never leave your side ever again._ The America examined his body up and down first, as if curious, eyes roaming the body in front of him before he looked where the eyes would be located if the strands of hair were out of his way. The Briton shivered, and averted his eyes away to keep both his disguise and composure up. If he lost one, he would lose the other. And they were very close to falling down from the destruction his emotions had caused.

"Alright, then," Satan said after the moment of silence between them. "I have decided, unanimous sir, that your cause for that goal shall be stopped, and this dear boy in front of me is to be destroyed tonight."

There was an uproarious noise amount of anger and joy that soon broke out small brawls around the area of the Dome. Arthur couldn't feel the world move beneath his feet. Alfred was still going to be condemned, no matter what happened. He stole a glimpse at his lover, just to see his reaction. Alfred seemed just as surprised as he, his head bowed and body bent forward slightly. It nearly made Arthur weep at the sight, and he couldn't help himself. Just as the Devil was leaving, strutting his way down the made walkway, showing off just how much power he had by his saunter, he was abruptly halted when the English man glided over the rest of the demons' heads and landed right down in front of him.

"Hello there, newcomer." He greeted the angel in disguise with forced kindness. "However shall I help you?"

"You have no right to condemn that boy," he snarled, caring less what happened to him after this. Slowly, but definitely, the room quieted down until the half-circle domed room was silent. That was when he proceeded onwards; "He does not deserve a single negative reaction from you. You should be bowing at his feet!" _Where the bloody fucking hell am I getting all of this from?_ "Just because he fell in love does not mean he must be punished! As Tino has stated, that was his classification of eye color at the time, which stands for the search of a lover due to the feeling of loneliness! He wanted somebody to love and he received that in the form of his lover Arthur, who was sadly lost." _Goddammit, luv, dear poppet, do not believe me. Please oh please dear God, do not let him believe me currently._ "Don't you think that is too much for him to take? Don't you think he should have some sort of mercy after this sort of problem has surfaced?"

Satan stared at the redheaded demon with an apathetic feature upon his face. Arthur was quiet as well, watching the head demon before he felt a small bit of a dark force start to creep in front of him. He eyed the area of where it was most likely coming from, and was slightly shocked to soon find it wrapping around his throat and tightening it. The incognito angel gasped, hands clawing at his throat as he tried to rid his body of the force. With small dots appearing in his vision and a tremendous amount of pressure in his respiratory system as he attempted to release and take in air, he was led to where he previously was until he was once again seeing a now blurry image of his weak lover.

"Do you honestly think that this being would want to be saved after his life has been taken away from him?" The Devil sneered into the other's ear. "He has nothing to love, nothing to hold, nothing to admire. He is just a shell of a demon that no one will ever care for like his British lover did again."

Arthur resisted the urge to talking, seeing as it would most likely be a garbled mess. His pulse beat roughly against the invisible grip, and he wanted to admit his identity, wanted to risk his safety for his beloved Alfred. But just as quickly as he had started to choke, it was gone from his body, and he fell to the ground in a heap of black and red, panting and choking and inhaling and struggling. He gazed up at his bound lover as he taken away from him. Alfred turned his head once, the façade on his face so believable and so heartbroken that the Englishman resisted the urge to run to him and save him and bring him close and reveal himself.

But he didn't move. He didn't run to his beloved Poppet. He didn't save him, not yet. Instead, he broke even more as he watched until there was no more of his silly, loving American to look at. And he had never felt so alone.


	28. Savior

**I do not own anything but the plot. Hidekaz Himaruya owns all characters.**

**I cannot express my love for you, my dear readers. Really, honestly. It's too muchhhh! I never thought I would receive this muchhh! :falls to ground because she's so overwhelmed:**

**Also, would you guys mind voting in a poll on my profile? It pretty much helps me what to post after this story is done, because I'm torn between my choices ;A; So pwease help! Do it for Chibi!Alfie!**

**Okay, I'll stop now. Enjoy~!**

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><p>Chapter 28:<p>

Savior

After the Dome had been evacuated of nearly everyone (the demons that were on their side were still here and on ground level), Arthur finally let himself show how frustrated he was despite the sorrow that welled in his eyes.

First, he leaned over until his forehead was touching the ground and sobbed, loud and depressing and startling nearly everyone left in the room. His wings dropped around his body, encasing him as his arms gripped the opposite upper limb's sleeves tightly, as if that would help him disappear from everyone else.

Second, after he had calmed down enough, he stood up and looked wearily at the others. Their eyes were neither rude nor angry, but pitiful and what looked like saddened at the view that they saw. He didn't say a single word to them; instead, he let his eyes tell it all for him. _I am broken, I need him, and I don't want anyone to get in my way._

"Arthur," Yao cautiously and quietly took a step forward. The Brit watched him with the remainder of his tears in his eyes, not making a move forward. "Arthur, I'm really sorry aru. I didn't, I mean…y-you know tha-"

"Please don't waste your time," he whispered, enclosing himself into his own embrace. He wanted to lie down and wait and cry and scream, wanted to stay where he was and wait for Alfred. But he knew this time, he would need to do the rescuing, he would have to be a hero, a savior, to his lover the same way Alfred had been to him. "I don't want to get any more furious than I already am."

The Chinese demon watched him for a few seconds longer than necessary, and shook his head. "You know that you're going to be able to rescue him."

He shook his head, simpering once. "It seems so impossible…" Even though he knew what he had to do, that didn't mean that he didn't think he would be able to perform such a task. "There's no way that I can."

"Don't say that, Arthur," Matthew boldly stepped beside Yao. "Of course you can save him. No one knows you're really an angel, judging by the way the boss talked to you. No one even knows about you except for us."

"It's not going to be easy when your lover thinks you're dead." The words were bitten out rudely in a snap, and he glared harshly at the Canadian. "Do you think that's making me confident? Something like that brings a person so low to the ground, he cannot stand it! He is immobile, feels like he cannot do what he knows what has to be done! But you don't get that because you're not in a situation like that! None of you do!"

The rest of the room was silent save for the gentle breaths that the incognito angel took. He stared down both of his close friends with a hatred that even he believed that he would never be able to possess. He could feel his blood boil and his tail coil up so much that its spiral was nearly gone. Arthur, once he had regained even breathing, sighed.

"I'm so-"

"Don't you want to show him that you're still alive?"

He glanced up from where he had been gazing at his feet in embarrassment and grief when Matthew spoke again. "I beg your pardon?"

"If Alfred thinks you're really dead, don't you think you should show him that you're not?" The Canadian gazed up at him with a hint of what seemed to be irritation in his eyes. "Just because he thinks that you're gone doesn't mean it's true. You should really go tell him that it's you, that you're not gone instead of staying here and bringing self-pity on yourself."

Arthur was quiet, his eyes downcast as the truthful words that stabbed at his heart. He knew the words did not mean to hurt him, but nevertheless they still strung nastily at him. He knew what he had to do, but he didn't want to because of that one fact that stabbed his insides. Arthur wanted to go save him, he really did. But at the same time, there was barely any sort of confidence or reassurance for him to do so. The fact that his own lover, his own dear, did not even know he was alive held him and weighed him down until he was on his back in pain, stuck deep into the mud as if he were the remains of the _RMS Titanic_.

"'e's going to die wizout you," Francis murmured. "Tonight. Zis is your last and only chance to save 'im. And if you can't do it…zere's not a very big chance zat you'll see 'im again."

There was that as well. Ever since he had died, he had had a strange fear of the night. Watching the people of the Surface for so many years got him to wondering just how they survived it. He had died at night during the Blitz, forcing him to shy away darkness as best he could. It scared him to even accidentally stand in a cast shadow. But even that was overdone by the fact of losing his darling Poppet. If he went another minute without seeing him or knowing he would see his Alfred, he would surely go crazy. "Where can I save him?" He murmured with his head bowed, eyes fixed on his shoes.

"There's a prison yard where they keep prisoners and hold the executions," Lukas began to explain. "It shouldn't be too hard to find, the smell is the worse one down here."

"Where is it?"

"Down a big hill just outside the Dome if you have your back to the Mountain of the Three Fates; just follow the stench and you'll reach it. Go in, show this," the Norwegian took out a large, brass key and handed it to him, "and they won't give you a tough time."

"Whot's this?" The object weighed down inside his hand, and he juggled it from one palm to the other, but it was completely unmarked except for where he was holding it. How was it going to work if he didn't have any way to get inside wherever he would have to go?

"The key to the 'special care' room, where they keep the prisoners going to die. He should be there, if he hasn't already been taken by Satan. And make sure you don't lose sight of it, because you can't lose it. It's designed to mimic the structure inside the keyhole."

"Is that all?"

He nodded. "About; don't let anyone come in after you when you go in the special care room. You can't risk a thing."

Arthur's hand tightened around the key that was going to show his path to his Dear Luv. He was going, alone, to save him and be his hero instead of the other way around. His stomach exploded in enthusiasm, and he had to bite down on his lip from smiling. "Thank you." He walked past the group and toward the door, but was stopped by a gentle, thin hand. When he turned around, he was looking at his Chinese friend, who instantly hugged him firmly.

"In case we get lost from each other aru," he whispered, voice sounding pained. "You be careful, _qīn'ài de péngyǒu_." The Englishman in disguise shut his eyes and returned the embrace.

"Of course," he whispered. This could most likely be the last time he would ever see his close friends. If their plan went wrong and they were only successful in saving Alfred, what would happen next? "Are you all going to be alright?"

Yao chuckled lightly. "We're keeping to the original plan aru. We'll be alright." He held the Briton out at arm's length, and Arthur realized just how much he was going to dread being separated from him for so long. Even though the older, and actual, demon had claret locks and blood red eyes, with paler skin and slightly-peeking fangs, it was still the ever-so-happy and kind Yao inside. He had learned things he never would have if he were still on the Surface, and he remembered every moment they had shared together. It was different, but even through all of this, it was still the same person, and the touch was still so gentle and loving and familiar. "Now you go find your lover and save him aru."

Those words had never sounded so sweet.

* * *

><p>Arthur had no problem whatsoever getting to the prison yard. He followed what Lukas had said, keeping his focus clear and not concentrating on any of his surroundings until he got to the hill. He lifted himself into the air with ease, and zoomed down as quickly as he could, not wanting to waste time. By the time he dropped down in front of the ground and landed, he dragged his hands through his hair and leaned against the side of the building.<p>

Everything felt like a dream coming true. He was finally this close to his lover, after nearly three days of being separated from him. He couldn't wait, but at the same time, his nerves rattled in uneasiness. Alfred wasn't going to recognize him until he changed back. He didn't know how long he had been in this form, and he didn't want to know how long he had until he was done with it. All he wanted to do was step into the warm embrace of arms and heat and love and American and Alfred and stay there for an eternity, loving while being loved, hand in hand and arm in arm and lips to lips. It was his desire, and if he could, he would die in that embrace (despite the fact that he already and technically was dead).

When he had regained enough assurance and reminded himself he would have to _move_ if he ever desired of seeing Alfred again, and he got off the wall and opened the heavy door that was just a few feet away from him. He held it open long enough for him to slip in, but as soon as he had, he gagged and resisted the urge to go back outside.

The smell was the worse he had ever witnessed down here. There was blood and what smelt strangely of urine and waste that hadn't been picked up and he wanted to puke as soon as he walked in. On either side of him there were cells that were separated from other cells with a huge wall of cement, all prison cubicles with snarling and growling and spitting demons, some forced to sit or stand from their shackles, some not as strictly restrained as others, but nearly all of them were making a mess and trying to get the guards to free them. The two guards, one for either side of the wall, paused and stared menacingly at Arthur, but he pulled out the key Lukas had given him and showed them, making sure to hide where the teeth would have been with his palm, and they nodded before resuming their previous duties.

Down the walkway, there were three doors that each had a label. The other two, since their signs were currently out of sight right now, he didn't know where they led to, but he saw the one in the middle read (in several different languages, with English on top) "**Special Care: DO NOT ENTER UNLESS OWNERSHIP OF AUTHORIZATION**". That was where his destiny was, where his heart was, and he couldn't help but start to run down to the room, heartbeats thwacking loudly against his ribcage, ignoring the catcalls of the other demons, and jammed the key into the slot. It fit perfectly, and with a nearly silent cry of success, he opened the door and slipped in silently.

This room smelled equally similar to the other one, but it had less of a stench to it. There was only cells against the right side of the wall, also isolated from other prisoners with concrete walls, but there was a large open space covered with dark spots that he hoped weren't but he knew was most likely blood, and torturous devices were on the ground, disorganized. He swallowed the small bit of fear still left inside of him that hadn't been oppressed by the joy of seeing his lover again, and he began to stride down the pavement nearly-silently save for his military boots. They clicked against the surface gently and quietly, and whoever was in here would already know he wasn't alone.

_This can't be real,_ he thought- _clack…clack…clack…clack…_- while trying to control his trembling hands. _This cannot be real. This has to be a dream. And if it is, I do not want it to end._

When he came across the last jail cell, he peeked inside, hoping to find him unharmed and only frustrated with an abused ego that wouldn't be too hard to cure. But he was wrong.

Yes, he did find his lover. Yes, his heart did stop beating.

No, Alfred was not unharmed.

Scars had been carved into his skin as if the weapon had been using a tree and was trying to sharpen the tip a bit more. They went up his body in the motion of branches, and they looked freshly new as there was still some blood coming from some wounds. His arms had been pulled up above him, holding his wrists down by tight-looking metal cuffs that sat on a long metal strip. Dirt covered his entire body, as if he had taken a bath in it, and his jet-black hair was not ragged in the way that he remembered, some parts darker and standing out from the rest of his hair. The blood-red eyes watched him, and he knew it would take some getting used to, gazing at those eyes. Although they weren't looking at him with love, but with apathy, it did not matter to him.

This was Alfred: his harmed, handsome, beautiful, lovely Alfred. His Poppet, his Eternal Luv, his heart, his Darling. Finally he could see him without any problem.

"Hello," Arthur greeted him in an even tone, taking a cautious step forward as he got the key out. Alfred watched him without any emotions on his face, and his heart thumped against his chest. _Oh God, this can't be real. Do not wake me up if this is a dream. Oh dear God, please. Don't you dare!_ "Do you remember me from the courthouse?" _The same courthouse that took you away from me._

The American demon watched him insert the key into the slot and open the door, slide in, and lock it. He wasn't sure what he was going to do first, but he was positive that whatever it was he was about to do, it was going to help his dear.

"I remember you," he murmured, looking up at him through the bangs that fell through his hair. The Brit gulped down his worry more as he took a few more cautious steps forward.

"That's good," he managed a small smile. "I won't be here long." _At least, not in this form._ "I was just coming to check on your status." Nearby, there was a large basin with a cloth resting on the rim of the bowl. That was a good way to start. "I can clean your wounds for you, if you want me to."

Alfred looked at the other's shoes before nodding slowly. "That would be fine."

Arthur moved the bowl that was most likely filled with the healing water in front of the prisoner, and he resisted the urge of déjà vu that washed inside of him. They had done this before. He remembered. That was before he had confessed his love. That was before their first time. That was before they hit tragedy.

The angel in disguise set the wash cloth into the bowl, swirling it around to soak up the liquid, before he pulled it out, squeezing it a bit to make it lighter, and then reaching over had The demon hissed in air in pain, head to the side as he shut his eyes and allowed the hand to roam his body and heal his cuts. The blond winced at each tense muscle that he touched, and each whimper of discomfort that his lover gave. He wished he could hold him close and comfort him, each individual sound that was out of pain grabbing his heart and clenching it tautly.

Alfred's head lightly knocked against the back of the wall, and his feet pushed on the ground, as if he was trying to push himself away from the cloth. Arthur looked at him, movements slowing only slightly before he moved up slightly, going from his stomach to his chest. Before he knew it, he was thrown a few feet away, on his back, with the basin upside-down on its rim, now empty of its contents. The American glared at him harshly with a look that could have killed him. And it did; it cracked the incognito guardian angel's heart and tore it into two that he had been pushed away by his lover.

"Don't touch me," he ordered in a low voice, glaring at the other through his bangs that were now falling in front of his face. Some of his wounds that hadn't been bleeding resumed to do so again, and those that already were poured out even more.

"I'm trying to help you," the Briton replied as he got to his knees instead of on his bottom. "I don't want to hurt you, but I know what I'm doing. I've done it before." _To you. I've done this to you before, and you haven't looked at me like that since I met you._

"I don't want you near me." By now, his long legs had been pulled close to him, and although he gave a gripe from the pressure that was added on to his injuries, he kept his legs like that: still and calm and close to him.

"I have to do something." _How could you say that to me? Can't you hear me? Can't you recognize me from my voice? Can't you see my eyes? I only covered them when I entered the yard, but I let my hair out of my face when I entered here. Please, Poppet, think. It's me. It's your Thornless Rose, your Beautiful, you're Pretty Angel, your Elegant Beauty. Recognize me before I break, please!_

"You can leave." The glower of hatred didn't lessen; instead, it increased its onslaught of pain onto the other.

Arthur was closer to him now, so much that he could reach out and touch him without bending his elbow. "I'm not going to leave."

Another leg shot out, but he was wise to dodge it before it hit the space of where he had been, and the shorter male skidded backwards to make sure he didn't get hit. "Get out of here!"

The English demon in disguise could only stare back at him. He had been denied contact, and now he was rejected of presence. He didn't mean that. He was talking to his demon form, not his angel form. But…they were the same person. It was still Arthur. The only thing that differed was the appearance. He hadn't meant to break his heart. He hadn't meant to nearly kick him in the face. He didn't mean to be so rude and harsh. He was just ignorant of the situation. And that was okay! He didn't know it was him. It should be okay then, right?

Of course not.

Arthur was still hurt by his actions. They tore at his heart and stopped his breath and his mind. He wanted to claw at something. His wings that had been pressed against his back (they were much heavier than his feathered pair) now unfurled and flinched once. Anger bubbled inside of him. Fury coated his features. Rage pushed his fingers into a fisted form. He couldn't stop his movements, even as he roughly tugged the legs out from being curled against his chest, and plopped right down on top of them, so close that he was able to pull the face close to his. Alfred bared his teeth as his eyes darkened and he snarled and growled and thrashed to escape from the indescribably-livid male that sat in his lap, but he failed.

"You listen to me," he grumbled, and the restrained demon stopped moving for a second, fangs still exposed in a would-be-intimidating manner, his breath coming out in nearly inaudible pants. "I have been away from you for two days, and this is the type of greeting that you give to me? You trying to get me out of here by kicking and yelling at me? You insufferable _git_." At the British slang word, he tugged on the cheeks, pursing them slightly. "I have been deprived of everything about you: your smell, your touch, your feel, your lips. I do not deserve the kind of bullshit you're giving me right now. Not after whot I've been through to get here to you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he snapped with a sneer of his lips. Arthur only chuckled deeply.

"Oh, you are unbearable. You are much too dozy for me; I don't even see how I love you."

This elicited another growl; "That's disgusting. I already have a lover…and just because he's dead doesn't mean that I don't love him."

The Brit laughed again as a response. "It's sweet, the way you think, Poppet. But I would prefer it if you stopped talking right now and actually made a move on me."

"I said I don't-"

"Look at my eyes, Luv." He moved their faces closer together, breaths ghosting on top of one another, noses and foreheads touching, eyes connected invisibly. "You fell in love with these eyes and every part of me, you dense thing. And now I think it's time you knew the truth."

Before Alfred could respond, Arthur tilted his head and shut his eyes as he shed his lips onto his, letting the tan and marked cheeks go so that he could move his arms upward and let their fingers intertwine. The demon beneath him made a few muffled protests, hands moving violently against the restraints against him, before he quieted down and moaned, hips scraping against the other male's. Arthur's back lightened up as his wings switched from leathered to feathered, and he discovered his horns dissolved and were replaced by a still-cracked halo. He felt his pants and boots show his pale skin and sandaled feet, and his robe and tie were back on him as well. With the kiss, a kiss from his love, he had been switched back to his angel form, with his green eyes ever consistent. And he knew that right where he was, was where he was happiest.

He was the one that pulled back for air first, and, just as he had suspected it, Alfred's eyes hadn't closed once while they had kissed. Now, the blood-red scarlet eyes were wide with shock and disbelief, fingers still locked together. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly, trying to grasp the situation and comprehend what he was seeing the best that he could, before he let out a gasped and choked "A-Arthur!"

The Brit untangled their hands and brought the key that was now in his lap to the shackles, unlocking them while still looking at his lover. "You silly git," he shook his head, smiling. "I can't believe you actually believed that I was dead."

Alfred only let his other wrist be free before he wound his arms around his angel and tightly hugged him, stuffing his face into his neck and pressing light kisses to it as he whimpered out his apology and sorrow into him. The angel out of disguise sighed at the touches, arms also embracing his lover, and listened to him recite his compliments and repeat how much he loved him and to say "I love you" over and over and over again.

The demon looked at his angel with endearing eyes, not saying a single word, but letting his mouth do so for him. With Arthur responding into his kiss, he brought them down against the floor so that they could lay down into the right position for what they were about to do. They stripped themselves of clothing hastily, throwing them somewhere out of reach, and placed lips and fingers and touch and feeling everywhere with everything they owned. With haste, the angel was prepared and was placed on top of the awaiting member, filling both with bliss at the feeling of fitting the other's missing half. Almost as soon as they had started to move, in unison, voicing their pleasures as loudly as they could, planting kisses onto each other and stating their desires, they were finished with the round, but quickly rolled over, still connected and panting and sticky, and continued to lay one another in pleasure.

And finally, since losing his Poppet, the spot that had been emptied and voided of anything inside of the angel was suddenly refilled with the feeling that he was loved, that he was adored, and that they would forever be together.


	29. Reunion

**This was going to be updated last night, but I was extremely exhausted. So here it is, dear readers~!**

**Also, if you could please vote in the poll on my profile to help me decide what story you would like to see first. Grazie~!**

**I own nothing but the plot. Hidekaz Himaruya owns all characters. So, as usual, enjoy~!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 29:<p>

Reunion

Once again, Alfred and Arthur couldn't recall how many times they made love. It was something that the Briton had, at first, kept track of, but had lost count of after five. And he was sure they did it more than that.

But it didn't matter to either of them, because it was something that they shared, something they cherished, something they adored: being with each other, and causing wonderful emotions to flow within the other. They were lathered in kisses and covered in little experimental bites that couldn't be hidden with clothing. To the other, the whole world was the male in front of him.

Arthur was completely lost in the pleasure that had overtaken his body and mind. He was sure his bottom would be sore after he slept it off, but everything was Alfred, and not a thing hurt. He writhed for more than just their contact between skin, or the contact between his legs. His breath was lost, he could feel nothing but that soft caress that resided on his hips, he was far too gone to worry about anything about the male above him.

The thoughts that had been inside his head were quickly washed away once that special spot was hit inside of him, and he cried out at the wonderful overwhelming wave of pleasure. His arms wound tightly around the tan neck in front of him, panting even as he planted kisses all along Alfred's face. His hair was sweaty and his hips were smooth and firm, bouncing into him and hitting that spot every time. Arthur leaned his head back slightly, and the demon's mouth latched on to the available space of his throat that had appeared, only softly moaning and kissing it.

"I-I'm close," he whispered. "L-Luv, I'm so close…"

"Almost there," Alfred murmured with a smile, lower body now quickening to reach the pleasure. "J-just a bit more-" His body shuddered, and he released deep into the body beneath him. Arthur reached his end as well, mewling and sighing at the feeling of both completion and the warmth that filled him.

Finally too tired to move, Alfred rolled out and to the side, where he kissed his angel on his ear. The Brit hummed with satisfaction, hand caressing his lover's cheek. Both were locked in both hand and eyes, neither wanting to let go.

"I missed you something terrible," Arthur whispered.

"I missed you even more," Alfred responded back, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

"I really had thought you had died and left me, after we had made that promise not to"

"Don't be silly." The angel pressed a kiss to the top of his hand. "I can never die as long as I have you beside me, Dearest."

Their lips met chastely in exhaustion, in a honeyed kiss that melted the Brit's insides into nothing much besides pleasure and relief and joy, all thanks to his lover finally beside him again and holding his hand and being there with him. The American was everything he had ever dreamed of when he was a child, and he could finally be at peace and breathe with ease again.

Alfred broke the kiss up gently, lying backwards with a smooth exhale and pulling Arthur towards him so they could be closer together. As soon as he was within range, the blond rested his head atop the sculpted abdomen, wrapping one arm around his lover's waist as the leather wings enveloped around him. Almost instantly, the heat enveloped his petite body, and the Englishman let out a breath; this was where he belonged. He had had serious thinking to do on his way here and last night, before the trial (had that just been today? It felt as if it had happened long ago), and he knew now that it was no longer his desire to live again in Heaven, and he certainly did not want to be in Hell. He especially wouldn't dare live on the Surface as a fallen angel. The only place he ever wanted to be was in between the most comforting and reassuring and adoring pair of arms that he had ever laid in. If he was with Alfred, in that warm embrace that gave him so much love and care, he was fine. He would stay there forever.

And he was sure Alfred wanted to do the same. If the fact that he had taken the angel's hand and peck it carefully, the other hand stroking his lover's back thoroughly, dodging his wings and halo, and smiling down at him was any indication, then he certainly knew his feelings without even thinking much about it. Arthur smiled at the American beside him, hadreaching up to cup his cheek with his hand. "I am so happy I can finally be with you," he informed him in a quiet voice, letting his hand drag through the strands of hair that still contained some of its smooth texture.

"You look tired," observed the demon, his own hand running underneath his eyes to trace beneath his eyes.

"Don't worry about it, Luv. I'm sure you haven't gotten much sleep since you were taken."

"You rest, Beautiful Angel." He took the hand that had been in his hair, and placed a gentle kiss atop of it. "I'll rest later, alright?"

Arthur shut his eyes, feeling them being weighed down with the promise of sleep, and gave a gentle laugh. "I missed you calling me that…Beautiful…" With his lover in his mind, he slowly shut his eyes and drifted off peacefully.

* * *

><p>When the Briton next woke up, he noticed that his lover had also drifted off, his chest rising and falling with the gentle breaths that he took. Arthur grinned and moved himself closer so he could properly look at that handsome face. He traced the tanned skin of his cheek with the tips of his fingers, tucked some of the caramel locks behind his ear. He smiled when the demon tugged him closer around his middle and sighed. The English angel leaned forward, hands resting atop the pectoral muscles, side of his face on his folded fingers.<p>

"I am so happy I get to be with you," he whispered. "You have no idea." Arthur twirled a lock of his lover's hair around his finger. Nothing would be able to tear them apart now, no matter what. They would get out of here, get back to the others, defeat Satan, and make their own set of rules. And then the angel would ask for he to be changed to a Son of the Dark and be able to reside with him in peace. Even maybe right now, as soon as Alfred woke up; maybe he could be changed now.

Oh, how wonderful that would be. Two demonic forces would be able to get out of here, to their allies, take down the Boss, and then rule their own way. That would be utter perfection. He could imagine the things that they could do. No one else would have to know besides the others they were allied with. And the best part was that nothing could ruin this plan. Yes, there were negative factors and thoughts, such as what if Satan were to walk in on them as they were escaping, or if they were caught and killed before they could get to their companions, but Arthur didn't dwell on those. He knew what the purpose for those thoughts was, and he wasn't going to stand for it.

Alfred slowly stirred from his snoozing, shuffling a bit before opening his eyes groggily. When he saw who was still safe and with him, he grinned. "My Thornless Rose," he whispered, leaning forward to connect their lips together. "I'm so happy to see you back here again."

"Back where?" He whispered back to him, knowing exactly what he meant.

The American sat up and landed a chaste kiss on his lips. "In my arms, of course."

Arthur smiled with a light laugh. "Of course." He gazed at the scarlet eyes in wonder. "Your eyes are so beautiful, Luv."

Alfred shivered, face turning into a grimace, and he looked away in what seemed to be shame. The older male's body chilled at the look, and he tried to look into the eyes.

"Poppet…? Whot's wrong?"

"I didn't want them to be like this yet."

The blonde's stomach churned. "Please don't tell me…"

"I-it hurt, wh-when they changed over." He averted his eyes away from him with a blink. "I was forced to change them to this yesterday. At first I refused to, because they were already going to change when I would change you, but the forced my head into a river with my eyes open and they had the chemicals change the color."

The Brit shivered at the explanation and the thought of what must have happened to his lover, and he intertwined their fingers, squeezing them tightly. "My Dearest Love…I am so sorry."

"It's not your fault." He managed to raise his lips up, and returned the grasp's squeeze. "And besides…now everyone knows that I'm taken by the most wonderful, most beautiful, most amazing and most loving Brit that I have ever had."

The angel found himself grinning wide, and he shook his head. "You… Come here…" He adjusted himself so he could better reach his mouth, and smooth his lips and tongue over the other's. His hands traveled over to raveling around his neck, and the American embraced his waist gently. He gave a gentle, light moan and the tender touch of leather flapped over and around them. Arthur forced himself to break away momentarily, still giving small kisses and pecks to each other. "I want…to be…changed…into a demon…"

Alfred slowly trailed up his throat to small moans and gasps of pleasure, giving a small hum in pleasure. "It's going to hurt you, though."

"I can handle it." He managed a reassuring smile. "You know what I've been through, remember?"

The demon moved away from his throat to look at him with softened eyes and a gentle smile. "Are you sure, Beautiful?"

Arthur nodded firmly. "I've been sure ever since I realized I had fallen in love with you. I knew at that point that I wanted to spend the rest of my existence with you. And I want to do it where we have as few problems as possible."

Another hand went into his and squeezed tightly, Alfred with a grin that melted Arthur's heart. "Then let me be the one to change you."

The Briton, with a moan, raised his head up and let the tongue attack his throat. He closed his eyes, their hands tightly wound together. There was a slight pressure against his neck, and he sighed in pleasure at the feel of it all: the pressure, the pleasure, the _anticipation_—

"Alfred Jones!"

The two gasped quietly and glanced outside of the cell, where no one was seen but voices were heard at the end of the hall. Arthur hastily grabbed his white robe and yellow belt, speedily putting them on his body (and attaching to the gold rope the key that Lukas had given to him) while Alfred threw on his tank top and jacket, both that had appeared from seemingly nowhere. The angel stumbled into his shoes, nearly falling over as he tied them while in a standing position, and then looked to the American beside him. "Alfred, quick. You know this place better than I do," he whispered. "We have to get out of here, or hide, or do something." That voice's tone had only meant one thing for them, and that meant trouble.

"I know, I know, hold on." The blood-red eyes gazed around the room, Alfred humming with furrowed eyebrows in concentration. The Brit looked just as quickly. They could run out of the cell quickly, but they didn't know how close or far away they were. The cell was completely open besides the chains still attached to the wall, and there was no way that they were going to be chaining him back up. A light finger tapped his shoulder, and he turned around to look into that handsome beam of his lover's and an index finger that pointed above them. Just above the cell door were three blocks of cement that provided enough space for them to hide. Arthur grinned, and jumped onto Alfred so that as they flew up, with the angel against the wall, there was no seeping glow from him to give them away. The demon's body covered all of him, and they held their breath as the door to Alfred's cell opened.

"Where the fuck is he?" A voice sounding similar to Satan echoed around the area of the prison. A swarm of Sons of the Dark, all with ebony eyes, looked around for their escapee demon. Ivan walked in shortly, and the American pressed the other closer to him and the wall. The Englishman growled lightly; he didn't know what it was, but there was something inside of him that had been activated as he had gone into a fake demon form, and it surged through him and made him more confident and fearless. He wanted to give the Russian what he deserved.

"He had been right here," Ivan, voice sounding panicky, looked around the room. "I swear! He was right here against wall in chains!"

"Did he escape?" The Boss asked, the level of his voice rising.

"_D-da… _It appears to be, sir." There was something in the Russian's voice that trembled, and Arthur could tell he was on the verge of begging for his life. "B-but it does not matter, right? He will be fighting either way."

"It's not that, Ivan. It's the fact that that angel snuck in here and got him back. The angels want all Feathered Beasts that we have taken and give them back to them, but we must keep that one. He is Alfred Jones' weakness."

At the words, the blond kissed his demon lover's lips with tenderness. The latter smiled wide and nuzzled him in response.

"Sir, dere are Powers Rank angels here who are under protection from their boss who will stop at nothing to fight us and gather their angels back," Ivan explained. "Dere is no way we can fight dem wid demons we have now. And we need Alfred's angel. He is only one who can get him back here."

Arthur's stomach churned in uneasiness. They wanted him. They must have known about his disguise. He was done for, he knew it now. They were going to get him.

Alfred leaned close against him, pressing a small kiss against his ear, and whispered into it; "I'd never let them get to you."

The English angel smiled and kissed him soundly, quiet so as not to draw attention to the demons right below them. "I know you won't," he responded at the same volume with a small smile on his face, and leaned in for another kiss. Below them, there was a small commotion, but it went unnoticed by the duo in the air, hidden in the darkness. Only when the footsteps faded away and the cell door was slammed shut loudly in irritation did the American drift down again, holding his lover close to him as they broke apart smoothly. "It appears to be there are Powers angels out."

"What do you think they want?" A gentle hand toyed with the blond locks, and the shorter hummed and sighed at the feel of the act.

"I believe they want to take the angels that are here and return them to Heaven. Powers angels are meant to go against demons, so it's going to be a difficult battle, but they will succeed."

"You're not going with them." Alfred's blood-red eyes looked too afraid to deny.

Arthur's hand reached up to cup his cheek as he shook his head. "Silly…whoever said I was going to be leaving you?" He wrapped his arms without haste to encircle the American's neck. "Besides, I do believe we had been busy with something before all of this nonsense had happened, were we not?"

The demon chuckled, pressing a kiss to his arm before tugging the guardian closer to his body. "We were, weren't we?"

"Yes we were. And…I think we should pick up from where we were."

"I agree." When the head of the angel was raised and the pale throat was exposed to him, the taller dove forward in eagerness, licking and humming wherever he could.

This was it, Arthur sighed as he felt a pressure of teeth against his throat once again. He would be changed, after so much time. He knew for sure that it would hurt something terrible. But would he remember anything? Would he remember where he was or what was happening or anyone who had helped him get to Alfred, or, although he dreaded the very thought, would he forget even…Alfred? Alfred who was everything to him, everything he felt, breathed, everything his heart beat for, everything his very soul loved. How could he forget such a soul? He wiped the thoughts away quickly. Everything was going to work fine. Everything was going to work perfectly. Everything.

"And this is where the magnificent, the wonderful, and the clever Alfred Jones is. Here, with his lover in his arms as he prepares him for his side for eternity. If only they hadn't been interrupted. What perfect timing."

Arthur let out a frustrated breath as Alfred turned around to glare at Satan, who was standing in the entryway of the barred cubicle. _Perfect timing indeed._


	30. Disaster

***Please read this before going on, because this is pretty important***

**Okay, so a sudden realization came onto me that I was leaving to visit my dad out west (heh, WESTTTTTTTTTTTTTT) in a few days, June 9th, and that I may or may not be able to have much Internet access for that time period. Which sucks. BUT! That means that I'll be able to have a lot of time to write the next chapters coming up after this. Which is amazingly excellent! :D Anyways, I'll try to have the next update by thr eighth, I promise on Ore-sama's life! OwO Oh yes, I went there. Eat a slice.**

**OlanRogers, sponser! XDDD**

**Oh, and by the way, I am terribly sorry for what I am about to do to your hearts.**

**I own nothing but the plot and whatnot.**

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><p>Chapter 30:<p>

Disaster

Satan opened up the door to the cell and strolled in as if nothing was wrong, as if he was just stopping by to say hello. Upon instinct, Arthur pulled Alfred closer to him, the latter doing the same to him. The ruler of Hell laughed and shook his head.

"You two are just impressively clever, aren't you?" He began in a taunting tone. The American demon growled, sported by a glare from the Briton. Arthur was tempted to start snarling at him as well. "I adore you two, really. I am just _tickled_ at the fact that you think you are able to hide from me. But you haven't remembered my great sense of smell."

"Whatever you're thinking, there's no way you're going to get to my Arthur," the American sneered, turning his body so that he could protect his angel.

"You should respect your Boss and hand over that Feathered Snob," a demon guard commented, sauntering into the room. Satan smirked evilly and laughed maniacally.

"Stop wasting our time, Jones. Hand over your lover or let the Powers deal with him."

"No one gets to handle him," Alfred snapped, making it clear that they weren't getting him by pressing a quick kiss to the Englishman's forehead. Arthur intertwined their hands and squeezed it to reassure both of them.

"You don't actually think that no one is going to get to him?" A loud cackle exploded from the head demon. "You stupid American! Everyone can smell a British angel like him from miles away!"

Arthur gritted his teeth together, fists clenching into the leather jacket that his lover had on. He was too close to losing all sense of control and attacking the Boss. "Everyone can smell a bastard like you from miles away," he grumbled. Alfred looked down at him in shock, but the Brit only glanced at him briefly before focusing his attention on the Devil again. "The only place where you'll find me is beside my lover. You can do whotever you like to me, but you won't be able to break me away from him."

"We can if we used force." From behind him, outside the cell, the demonic guards had formed a barricade so that no one could get in or out. "I have an army of faithful followers who will stop at nothing to stop you two."

"I have an army of rebels that will stop at nothing to bring you down," Alfred retorted.

"Your little group is barely even an army! Just because the majority of you died during the Second World War between the humans on the Surface doesn't make you stronger!"

"To you, maybe, but we can match you easily."

"I'd like to see you try, Jones."

Alfred was quiet by now, his blood red eyes darkening threateningly but his grip not lessening up at all. Suddenly, a smile sprouted on his face and he chuckled quietly as loud screeches sounded from outside. The familiar beating of wings and shrieks from beaks, followed by feline roars and charging feet echoed from outside. There was a flicker of anger on Satan's face that showed his irritation, but he didn't move. "I don't have to do much to show you. They already are."

"That can't be possible." The words came out in a grumble, and Arthur couldn't help but smirk at him.

"Whot's wrong, sir? Bit uncomfortable for you to hear your men being ravished to dust?" He responded.

The Devil's eyebrows furrowed and he began to charge forward in fury. "I'll pull out every one of your feathers, you Feathered Menace!" His claws unfurled from his hands, and he got into the air, lunging forward and reaching for the angel. Arthur stepped back to dodge him, but someone had already stepped in front of him and defended him from the attack, taking it upon himself instead

The Briton's eyes widened once he saw his lover, hands out, defending himself and taking each hit given to him. "Alfred, no!" Arthur stepped forward in an attempt to help him, but found an arm and a knife around his neck. He froze in his place with a sharp inhale, trying to ignore the hot air against his ear.

"My, my, Feathers," an accented voice breathed on him, sending shivers down his spine. "You remember me, right? You helped me and my army get into your division in heaven."

"Sadık, was it?" The angel whispered, standing as still as he could while trying to avoid the sharp blade that was too close to his throat.

"What a good memory you have." A pronged tongue traced itself up and over and around the shell of his ear, and Arthur trembled before feeling the back of his head being pulled back by his halo. He gasped loudly in pain, a hand going up to pry the grasp away, but he stopped midway. He mustn't touch it; he must not go near it. Unless he wanted to risk his life, he wouldn't move a single muscle. He could only watch the scene in front of him, with his emotions on the brink of shattering into millions and millions of unfixable pieces.

Alfred, as the angel had learned over the amount of time he had been with him, was strong, but he was struggling to keep his guard up against the head demon. The American had claw marks along his abdomen, back, face and arms, and he didn't look like he could hold his own for much longer. His attack, when he could manage one, was slow and not as strong as it had been when he had started the fight. And soon, he was leaning on his knees and trying to catch his breath. Satan was unharmed, his body healing automatic whenever he received an injury, but it was obvious he was tiring down as well. He stood over Alfred with a menacing glare downwards, and he gripped him by the nape of his neck and tossed him down to the ground so he could place his foot in between his wings.

"Alfred!" Arthur exclaimed without thinking, and jumped in shock with a surprise gripe when his head was pulled back even more by the ring above his head. The American tried to look behind him to gaze at his lover, but the Devil's foot shot out and connected with his face harshly, followed by a grunt of pain. The Brit lunged forward, not caring about the knife that now dragged across his cheek as he moved. His arms were held back behind him and attempting to prevent him from escaping, but he nonetheless moved to reach his American. "Leave him alone, please!"

Alfred looked over to gaze at his lover, eyes half-lidded and showing that his body was in pain. But slowly, his expression changed to anger at the sight of the scratch against the Englishman's face. Satan cackled loudly at the sight of the duo's struggle. "I love to make two hopeless lovers squirm in pain and agony," he shook his head with a simper. "Angel and Demon. The two lovers that are not meant to be. Worse than that sappy romance of Juliet and her dear Romeo." He pushed his foot against the other demon's head, sending it into the gravel and dirt. "The romance of two people who are not meant to be with each other, and yet they cannot resist their desires for the other. Don't you find it lovely?"

"Get off me," the American Son of the Dark growled, trying to lift his body up, wings stretching out on either side of him. Satan laughed and shoved him down again with a kick to his back, causing the restrained angel to fight even more for freedom.

"I wonder what would happen if we were to separate you two once again. Just keep Jones in here and torture him with his lover watching outside of the cell, chained to the wall and forced to watch his blood flow." One of the Boss' claws reached out and hooked under the demon's chin. Alfred snarled at him and tried to get his face away.

"You're not laying one single hair on him!" Arthur snapped, and tried to unfurl his pained wings to reach his lover. "Leave him alone!"

"Or maybe we can force Jones to watch his precious angel bleed until there is nothing left of him but a shell of the person he once loved." Satan now loomed over the blond, hooking clawed fingers on either side of his face and into his cheeks, causing the thin scar already there to throb as it was forced to be stretched. "Perhaps we can even change the angel and let him deal with his Precious, Beautiful angel." Sadık chuckled in what sounded like agreement, and wrapped an arm around the thin waist of the Brit, hands tracing over his thighs and hips in a seductive manner. The Englishman tried to get the hands away by kicking his legs forward, but was stopped by a sharp force around his calves that pulled both of his legs together and obliged them to be still. He gulped down the fear that threatened to overwhelm him, and didn't stop the hand that rose to capture a clutch on his halo. "Does that sound like a good idea, Precious Arthur?"

Before the Briton could find the strength to answer, he found the clawed hands and tail leaving his body and being dragged off of him. Sadık was removed from him just as quickly, and he couldn't help but look up at who had saved him, only to see a giant, beautiful eagle, its head dipped with white feathers against the mostly-brown body. The shocking blue eyes were what gave the identity away, and he couldn't help but start to laugh in amazement at the beautiful and seemingly impossible animal that was his transformed Poppet. The bald eagle nuzzled him with its white-feathered head gently, giving a gentle cooing as it did. Arthur chuckled at the sight, and gave the beak a good rub.

"That's my Lovely Poppet," Arthur smiled, and placed a gentle kiss on top of his American's head. "Always protecting me like a loyal hero." The demon in disguise squawked and ruffled its wings out, as if to try and impress him, receiving more sounds of amusement.

"You think that your demon transforming like that will change everything?" Satan jeered from behind the eagle, and a foot sparked with talons lunged behind Alfred, catching the Devil by surprise if the grunt in pain was anything to go by. "You two are just foolish amateurs who think you're on top of the world because you're in love."

"I'd rather be foolishly in love with someone than an arsehole that can't rule properly." The eagle chortled in a way that sounded similar to a laugh, and then swiped his wing behind the Englishman to send the Turkish demon, Sadık, flying against the room. Arthur made a _tsk_ with a shake of his head. "I'm afraid that you might be overthrown soon, Satan."

The head demon gritted his teeth together, body brightly illuminating, before roaring in a way that sent Alfred away from him and on the ground, back in his demon form and beside his lover. Immediately, Arthur was by his side. "Poppet, whot happened?" He worriedly inquired, pushing the jet-black fringe back. The American looked back at him with his scarlet eyes that were now full of pain, and he leaned up to hastily connect their lips. He seemed desperate and quick, and even then, the two didn't get much contact besides a simple touch, before the younger was pulled away from him by an unseen, rough force that sent the Brit to his feet. "I told you before to leave him alone-"

Just as he finished his sentence, he was thrown into the back wall, landing somehow perfectly into the now locked manacles that his lover had been in. Feeling the burning hot metal attack his skin, he started to struggle and scream to be freed, complete clueless as to what was going to happen next.

"I warned you two to behave," Satan breathed heavily, and chuckled at the duo's current predicaments. "And I didn't want to have to do this to you."

A loud scream curled into the air, and Arthur knew exactly who it was without even looking at him. His lover was on his knees, breath loud and uneven, his wings and entire body bending backwards in agony, before he fell forward, heaving and shouting. At the sight, Arthur only fought his restraints even more than before. "Just leave him alone, please!" He begged, kicking his legs in front of him, as if it would free him. "He hasn't done anything wrong!" _This can't be happening to my Alfred. Not my Darling Poppet. Anyone but him!_ Satan provided no answer, and with a simple movement of his hand, he forced the blond to gaze down at his pained American lover.

Alfred's wings stretched out and convulsed as if they were trying to escape before a loud, long _riiiiiiiiiip!_ interrupted the panting and replaced it with screeching as the leather, bat-like appendages were removed. His body shook and trembled, horns falling to the floor with a dull clang, tail extending outwards from his rump before a disturbing _pop!_ separated it. His hair that was once ebony and ruggedly attractive started to fade, shedding off and leaving gray hair before finally coming into focus as a beautiful blond the color of caramel and wheat. His eyes widened painfully, causing him to tremble in agony, before the irises reversed into a blue as beautiful as an unpolluted pond of water, or the sky on a clear day. His jacket lightened up so that it was visible as a brown Air Force bomber jacket, complete with leather and a furred collar, jeans replaced by brown slacks and the rest of a Second World War Air Force uniform.

Arthur could only hear and see his Alfred, trembling and panting and changed, as he leaned over the floor in pain, eyes wide with hurt. The golden-haired boy looked up, sapphire meeting emerald briefly, and a single tear track drifted down the younger's face on a journey that symbolized the change, that their paths were now going to be different. His expression was one of sorrow and regret as, in the background, distant from them, the Devil chuckled.

"Arthur Kirkland, guardian angel, meet your hero, Alfred F. Jones. Now human."


	31. Heartbreak

**HAPPY BIRTHDAY OPTIMISTICALLY-HOPELESS~~~~~ :D Okay, I'm done making a fool out of myself~ ^-^**

**Hated Satan? Well, he's Satan, and we can hate him later XD Hate how Alfred's a human? Well, get ready for heartbreak, because there is a lot of it. Because, well, angsty chapter is angsty. Hate how I should just stop talking? Well, hold on a sec.**

**I just wanted to say that because of the problems with M-rated stories getting taken off and stuff...I'm not going to stop. Just to be safe, I will start to post some of my stories on Tumblr, but otherwise, until I have my AO3 (Archive of Our Own) account in like flippin' October open, all of my stories shall be here. But! I did send an e-mail to the support team, because it is really suppressing our writers' freedoms to "unleash your imagination". But we CAN'T when stories are deleted! I mean, come on, really? God, I just want to go Russia or go Belarus or go Pirate!Iggy or just aoijeruhgeiughierghgbbggr!**

**But until then, let's just get this finished, shall we? :D XDDD (pfft, I'm not bi-polar, just on sugarrr~ or in yandere-mode)**

**So, besides that, I will be going on a trip for about ten days, but if I do have a chance to get on the Internet, I shall alert you, mon amis~! Well...readers, not really friends, more like...yeah, torture subjects- I mean readers, what? XD Nahhh, just kidding~!**

**So, I own nothing but the plot and: Emily Williams, and Maggie and Dillan Kirkland (AKA, Ireland and , respectively). I don't want to own Alfred's parents because they're bastards. So, as always:**

**Enjoy~! *hands you tissues just in case***

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><p>Chapter 31:<p>

Heartbreak

Arthur's world fell apart as soon as he had seen the human version of his dear lover. The American, with his golden wave of wheat atop his head and those sparkling sapphires that were used as eyes and his trembling body and just his entire existence, was now different for good. This was it. This couldn't be reality. This had to be a dream, no matter how much the angel kicked himself hard in the shins to cause bruises. Everything around him was still and he could feel his stomach churning and tightening. How could Satan do this to an innocent boy such as Alfred? Why did this have to happen to them?

As soon as the Brit's arms fell to his side again, out of the manacles, he wasted no time in crawling over quickly and pulling his lover towards him for a hug. As soon as they connected in the embrace, he inhaled the smell of Alfred and sighed. The smell was a big relief to him, the aroma of chocolate and leather and something sweet filling his nostrils. "My Lovely," he whispered to him, hand raising up to stroke his hair soothingly. "Oh my dear Poppet…I'm so sorry, Dearest."

The young boy, who didn't look older than twenty, only whimpered into his shoulder, causing the hold around him to tighten. Arthur glanced up at the Devil, and found he was nowhere to be found. Instead, Ivan was in his place, and the Englishman's wings tensed, his mouth forming into a sneer.

"Do you mind? I don't believe it's very polite to be standing here while we obviously have personal matters to deal with." The Russian gulped audibly, and blinked.

"I was told to stay here and watch you two, in case you try and leave," he replied. "I can't-"

"I am trying to comfort my lover who was recently taken out of his demon form, and you stay here in case we try to _leave?_ Where the bloody fuck would we go? And I think it is unwise to try and argue with me in this state, considering the fact that not only has my lover been harmed, but there has been a direct line of my ancestors being pirate captains, some who have defeated the Spanish armada, and all of them have assisted in building the British Empire. So right now would not be the best time to disagree with me."

Ivan opened his mouth to state his own point, but was silenced with a sharp glare from emerald eyes. The Russian winced at the look and backed away without another word. As soon as they were the only two in the room, Arthur sat Alfred up to examine him and see what damage had been done.

There were tears that had leaked from the sky blue eyes that were so beautiful and left clear marks down his cheeks. His teeth were chewing on his bottom lip as if it would save his life. His hands trembled, for what was unknown, and he clutched onto the older blonde's hands tautly. Fear danced beside sadness inside his eyes, and it didn't have to be asked why he was like this. Arthur raised a hand to cup his face affectionately, and he leaned over to place a gentle kiss atop his head. "Why are there tears, Poppet?"

"I'm not a demon anymore," he whispered so low that it was close to impossible to hear him. "I can't stay here."

"That doesn't mean anything." He moved a strand of caramel blond out of the now human's eyes, and gave him a reassuring smile, but the younger shook his head.

"No, you don't understand, Arthur. Whenever a demon is put back into its form before death, it means that they're no longer allowed to be here. I'm going to be taken away from you again." At the words, Alfred's lip quivered and he moved forward once again to bury himself into the angel's shoulder.

Arthur inhaled sharply as the impact of the words washed over and threatened to drown him into oblivion. Once again, they were only meeting for a short while before being separated, and now who knew how long it would be until they would be together again? All he wanted to do was to stay by his lover for eternity. Was that too much to ask? The very thought of not being able to see him for who knows how long was making a seed of anger sprout and grow and stretch, and it drove him to want to do something drastic that he would most likely be regretting after it was done. But right now, he needed to comfort the surprisingly weeping boy that was soaking his skin and tearing his heart into two. Without a second thought, he enveloped his arms around Alfred, rubbing his back and pressing a kiss to his forehead. "My Dearest Love…everything will be taken care of. Don't worry."

"I've been apart from you so many times." He sniffed loudly, pushing his nose into the pale neck in front of him. "I don't want to leave your side again."

The Briton knew they would be separated again. He knew that his words tugged at both of their hearts. No one seemed to want to give them mercy, and the angel found himself letting out his tears as well and allowing his sorrow to be seen, even as he was pulled closer. No words would be able to mend them of their fate, and they both knew it. The two sat in silence for what seemed to be forever, comforting his lover by actions instead of words. They were both deprived of speaking, since they were too busy stuffing the other into a hug and muffling his cries of anguish and tragedy. All they wanted, the Brit knew, was to be together forever and stay with one another, and to just simply be normal lovers and spend time together. But they were not permitted to enjoy each other's company due to someone else's selfish reasons, and because of this fact, their sorrows rang out around them.

"I-I want to show you my past," Alfred sniffed, breaking the silence and toying with the other's blond, shaggy locks of hair. "Just like you showed me yours."

Almost instantly, Arthur shook his head. "Alfred, no," he denied him, caressing the side of the other's face. "Not right now. I can't bear to deal with any more sorrow than I already have."

The American shook his head with a smile that seemed too pained, and he gently took the angel's hands and raised them to his temple, the index fingers hovering over the specific spot. "You need to know this about me… And you need to understand it."

"Poppet, we're already going through difficult times enough, please don't make it worse for us." There was a pit of fear in the elder's stomach, and it twisted and turned inside of him and warned him of something that would happen if they went through with this idea.

"Arthur…" His hands wavered over to cup the angel's face, and he connected their lips for a short yet sweet and comforting moment. "Any time that I spent with you will always be filled with joy. Never forget that."

The Brit couldn't hold back a smile, and ran a hand through the caramel locks. "We'd be letting our guard down."

"It doesn't matter because we're already protecting each other with our lives.'

"Someone could walk in on us."

"Then let them, because I will fight for you and with you until I have you beside me and safe."

"You have everything all figured out, don't you Luv?"

Alfred chuckled, sounding both pained and light, and he pecked the lips once again before giving a large grin one last time. Arthur could see that he wanted this just as much as he, and he couldn't help but return the smile. If his lover was both okay with letting the angel inside his mind and confident that they would be fine, then there wasn't much else to do except for him allowing the fingers to glide over his temple silently and at a decent pace, before he was allowed access into the past of his American.

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><p><em>4 July 1926:<em>

Paige Jones did not like to raise children. She adored them once their ages were double-digits, but anything below that was unacceptable. She detested the very thought of holding a toddler or child not yet ten or older, even if it was merely nine years old. And her son Alfred was no different. As soon as he had been born, she refused to look or hold him, and forced her husband Franklin to do so for her. Her son was never breast-fed, never held by his mother when he was sobbing or crying his eyes out. And she did nothing but sit around their near-mansion of a house located just on the border of Manhattan, and she would go out to the city and shop and spend ridiculous amounts of money. Her family was rich, and her husband was just as wealthy if not more. Her worries were taken care of already, especially when it came to Alfred.

Before he was even out of the womb, his mother had hired a nanny, a young woman named Martha, to care for him until he was ten. Martha worked at the house as a maid, and was removed from those duties to only cooking meals and caring for the new addition of the Jones family. Every day, she would care and change and feed and help Alfred as if she was his own mother. And every day, his actual mother grew farther and farther away from him. At least his father was somewhat caring to him.

Alfred was already up and jumping on his bed when Martha came into his room on the morning of his third birthday. And when he saw her, he plopped down on the sheets and ran to her. "Martyyyy~~~!" He cried out, hugging her legs tightly while giggling. The maid laughed as well, and picked him up gently, bouncing him on her hip. He laughed as he moved his lips with her movements, and then encircled his arms around her neck.

"How's mah birthday boy doin' this mornin'?" She asked in her natural Southern accent.

"I had a dream about a flying object in the sky!" He exclaimed, jumping in his place, and gestured towards the sky.

"Did you now?" She brought him to the bathroom, setting him down and letting him pull his pants down.

"Mhm!" He nodded his head vigorously, and paused until his business was done and over with. "It hadddd…a bird machine, aaaaaand the sky, aaaaaand a big cloud, and I was there!"

"Were you." Turning on the faucet, she helped him reach the faucet and he scrubbed his hands clean. "Was I there?"

"Yeah, you were there! You waved to me as I went in the bird machine!"

Martha laughed as she lifted him up again to bring him downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast. "That's amazin', Alfie! Anyone else there with you?"

The three-year-old hummed in thought. "No. No one else but you and me!" Martha placed him in his seat in the dining room and went to the kitchen. He instantly reached for the paper and started scribbling over the blank piece in random colors with the utensils in front of him, humming a few random notes. A woman with short blond hair, too much make-up, and loud heels walked in, her head held high. Alfred looked up from his place and blinked in shock at her. "I have business to take care of, Martha," she clarified for the maid, picking up a small black purse with a long strap. "Franklin has an important dinner with his bosses, so make sure you have all the ingredients for the dinner. And make sure _it_ is in bed before they come over. I don't want anything messing up this dinner."

"Yes, ma'am," the southern woman nodded, and the woman gave a sneer of her lips and a harsh glare at Alfred before leaving. Martha placed the plate of fruit on the table a little too roughly, and the three-year-old looked up at her.

"Martha, who was that?" He wondered in a voice leaking of innocence.

The maid let a breath out with eyes shut, and forced a smile upon her face. "That was your mother, Alfred."

Alfred's eyebrows furrowed together. "My mother? But…" He looked down at his picture in sadness before looking up at Martha. "I thought you were my mother, Marty."

Martha gave what sounded similar to a choked sob, and covered her mouth in sadness. The toddler, seeing her expression, developed teary eyes, and reached for the woman in front of him in sadness. The maid scooped the boy into her arms and cradled him close to her. Alfred quietly clutched onto her and sobbed into her shoulder. The only one who had ever taken care of him was Martha. That woman who had come in and looked at him in a mean way could not be his mother. That place would always be Martha.

"You'll always be mah baby," she whispered to him, stroking his caramel blond hair and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"You'll always be my mama," he hiccupped to her, and the two pulled the other into a tighter embrace.

When Martha developed a strange sickness***** and died when he was six, his birth mother Paige was now forced to bring him along with her. But by then, Alfred had already grown a despising attitude towards her. Whenever he was brought to one of her clubs with her friends or anything of the sort, he always made sure to cause some sort of mischief for her, just so he could get out of it. And even though he would be punished with a spanking to his backside, it was all worth it, just to see that look of disgust and abhor on her face.

* * *

><p><em>September 1935:<em>

By the time he was merely twelve years old, Alfred wanted to stop being rich and he wanted to stop having the parents that he had. For one, whenever he went out with his mother, he would always see kids his age or younger or older and grown-ups all on the streets in nothing but ragged fabric that barely looked like clothing. Some were searching in garbage cans or begging for food. His parents always led him away from them, but he would give the children pieces of bread or fruits. He even handed them toys that he didn't want to play with, such as an old teddy bear that he didn't need anymore (the other one, he had given to his brother and another was sitting on his bed and waiting for him to snuggle with at night). All in all, Alfred didn't like the fact that others were suffering but he was well off in a house and a warm bed waiting for him every night.

Second, his parents were always forcing him to do things that he didn't want to do. They scheduled dates for him to play with the boys that went to his private school, but they were also like his parents. But Alfred would ignore them the best that he could and doodle in the corner, drawing airplanes and two little cartoon characters, one a gray creature with large red eyes that he had called Tony and the other a whale that he had simply called Whale or Whaley. Whenever he couldn't get to his other friends that resided in the Hoovervilles around the area, he found comfort in his own world with Tony and Whaley. Even though they weren't real, they were something that he had created. They were never rude to him, and inside his mind, he was safe and away from the harm of reality.

Another thing about his parents was that it was extremely difficult for them to accept him, considering the way he acted. They always had a problem with him, one way or another, ever since his birth. The issues, however, didn't become apparent until he was seven and had admitted to kissing a boy and saying that he liked it. On top of that, he had already been kicked out of five private schools, and they were running out of places to send the rambunctious, stubborn boy that they were forced to call their son. Paige and Franklin Jones never looked at him in the same way they saw the other children of parents with money, especially with the way that he ran off every day for hours on end, ever since he was ten. Every day, he was visiting his half-brother Matthew, who had resided in a Hooverville with his mother, where the rich boy found more comfort than ever. Matthew Williams was the son of Emily Williams, who had had an affair with Franklin Jones when he was on a business trip to Canada. The two Williams' moved from Canada to search for his father, but Franklin was already married and had a son, Alfred, with his wife Paige. When the depression hit and Emily was forced to move to a Hooverville, where she was visited by Alfred every day, who kept her son company. Every day, however, he left whatever belonging he had brought with him on purpose. Neither Emily nor Matthew questioned the boy about it, but they knew just what he was doing each day.

Alfred came by, as usual, on a particular rainy day, and slipped inside of the Hooverville located in Central Park, greeting the residents who had become accustomed to seeing him. He slipped inside the Williams' shack and greeted the two cheerfully, as he usually did, and plopped beside his half-brother before pulling out a collection of jacks.

"What are these?" Matthew asked, picking up a jack to examine it.

"This is called jacks," the younger, rich boy grinned in joy as he dropped the metal objects on the table (Matthew and Alfred, coincidentally enough, were separated by only three days, with the former born on the first of July and the latter the fourth). "And what you have to do is you drop the ball," he demonstrated the movement before picking up a jack and catching the ball, "pick up a jack…and then catch the ball!" He hastily collected each of the tiny objects, before scattering them again and handing the scarlet orb to his brother, who then proceeded to mimic his only sibling's movements. Emily, washing the little silverware that she owned, smiled at them.

"Did you see the cat that Matthew found the other day?" She inquired, gesturing at the door with the hand holding the washcloth. Instantly, the American boy leaped up and ran to the door, peeking out and looking on either side of the shack.

"Oh, wow!" He dashed out hastily and came back a few seconds later with a white bundle in his arms and a fuzzy black collar around his neck. "He's soooo cute, Mattie! Didya name him yet?"

"I was going to ask you if you wanted to name him," the Canadian boy replied quietly, picking up the last jack and catching the ball.

"Hmmm…what to name you." He lifted the cat up out of his cradled position and held him out in front of him by his sides. "I think we should name you…Independence!" The cat meowed and purred at him, closing his eyes when Alfred cradled him properly again. "I think he likes it!"

"It's impossible to hate you, Alfred," Emily chuckled as the American boy sat down with the chubby cat on his lap and proceeded to play the game again.

The boy scoffed. "Unless you're my parents." He took the ball that was handed to him from his brother and bounced it, scooping up two jacks as he did before letting the sphere drop inside his hand.

Emily sighed quietly and shook her head. Lately, the boy had been complaining on such topics, and she was starting to wonder when he would quit. "That's not true, Alfred, I'm sure they care about you very much."

The American simpered. "They don't like me and you know it." _Bounce_. Two more jacks were gathered. "They don't even talk to me at dinner anymore. It's like I'm a buzz in the background that goes on and never stops."

"Alfred-"

"At least here, I'm actually loved by two people!" _Bounce_. The ball was thrown on the table's surface with much force, and it bounced off, rolling off the tabletop as the jacks were tossed out of his hand. "I kissed a boy when I was seven, I fight with kids every day at school, I broke a kid's arm- I'm tired of not being accepted by anyone! I don't want to live in the same house as them anymore! No one looks at me and accepts me like I'm worth spending time with! All I want is to be hugged and loved and kissed at, but no one ever will!"

He stood up from the bench, the cat jumping from his lap, and he stormed out of the house into the rain, letting the water go through his thin clothes and down his face and drench him as he scrunched his feet up close to his chest. All he was looking for, all he wanted, was to have someone that would hold his hand and comfort him when he was distressed, someone who would kiss away his worries. But he was still a kid to some people, and he was desperate for someone to love.

When a gentle hand tapped his shoulder, he didn't bother to look to see who it was. Matthew was always feeling guilty for him, one way or another. It was almost as if they were twins, and could sense the other when he was distressed. "I don't want to talk to anyone right now, Mattie."

He wasn't expecting his brother to leave, and he wasn't shocked to find someone sitting next to him. "Mom doesn't want to cause any problems between you and your parents," he informed his brother quietly.

"I just want someone to look at me and accept me for me." He sniffed and toyed with his fraying clothes. He was tired of being judged and feeling like no one else was ever going to be there for him. "I wish I could find someone who's going to love me forever."

Matthew, feeling pity for his half-brother, wound his arms around him and hummed in musing. "I wish for the same thing."

The two sat like that in the rain for what seemed to be forever before the American jumped up in shock and a cry. "Oooh! Dude! I know! We should make a pact! Let's never stop being brothers or friends! That way, even if we are lonely, we still have each other!" He held his hand out, waiting for his sibling's agreement. This plan was amazing! They already had each other, and if or when they found that special person, their bond would be close and taut.

The Canadian blinked in mild shock, but it wore off quickly, and he managed a wide smile to the younger. He put his hand in Alfred's and let himself be pulled up to his feet, where the duo met in a comforting, warm hug and laughed. They had never felt as safe.

* * *

><p><em>August 1942:<em>

Emily Williams gained Alfred as an adopted son on his eighteenth birthday in 1941, after years of Alfred staying over her home, from her Hooverville to the small apartment that she was now able to afford, without either of the Jones' noticing their son doing so. Adopting the boy as her own was no problem as well, since Paige and Franklin hadn't given much of a fight for their son. Matthew and Alfred were becoming stronger and older, and much handsomer than they were before. Girls would fall head-over-heels for them, but the brothers hardly noticed them doing so, since they hardly ever caught his attention. They were drafted into the war as pilots in early-1942, at age eighteen, and pushed themselves to success, sent to Europe (England as a base post) to fight the war there. Alfred was almost directed to the Pacific, but his fear of what had occurred at Pearl Harbor was enough for him to force his commanders to send him off with his brother.

Alfred's dream, recurring ever since he was a toddler, finally came true when he first took flight in his first attempt at flying. The air felt fresh and he saw what he had always wished to see: clear skies with puffs of white beside and all around him, absolutely no boundaries. He loved it, and his heart swelled, and the first time he took off, he always made sure to look down and check to see that his brother was there, and that there was an available space for where Martha would be standing.

In the beginning of August, Matthew was sent to a Canadian unit somewhere nearby on a last-minute call. Their parting was bittersweet, and the Canadian promised that he would write to him every other day and tell him of what was happening. The older was also excited to see a bit of his ancestors' homeland. Nevertheless, he dreaded departing from his best friend, and Alfred even offered to go in his brother's place, but was denied.

Towards the end of August in 1942, Alfred was seated in a British pub with other American pilots, not drinking but having a good time with those who were intoxicated, the now nineteen-year-old American waiting for his chance to prove he was worth something. The twins running the pub, Maggie and Dillan, with their wild manes of ginger hair and harsh language, drank an equal amount to their customers and were always telling stories of their brothers, two who were fighting in the war and another who had died unexpectedly in the blitz in 1940. The two would insult each other and shout loudly at one another in accents of the Irish, and their slang was almost as incomprehensible as their yelling at its worse. They were entertainment for all in their pub, a dull moment or a frown never allowed unless the mood was set for one, and it relieved Alfred of the wait for something to happen.

Until one day, a man in uniform came into the pub, and the recently exuberant Dillan quieted down at the sight, his voice trailing off at his sentence. "And whot be yer need here?" He asked. Anyone who looked at his face could see he was anxious. Both his older and younger brother, William and Charles, were fighting in the war, and everyone felt the air tense with the fact that that paper might be for him or his sister.

"Telegram for an Alfred F. Jones," he announced. Alfred's heart pounded at the sight of the slip of paper in his hand; he knew the exact purpose for a telegram during war times. Nevertheless, the boy cautiously raised his hand.

"That's me, sir," he stated, and took the paper with a cautious yet thanking nod. He opened the paper slowly, feeling the eyes of the residents of the pub on him and tears in his own. His fingers trembled as he held the paper in his hands and read the words that he feared through watery eyes:

_To Flight Officer Alfred F. Jones,_

_The Secretary of War desires me to express his deep regret that your brother First Officer Matthew Williams was killed in action on 19 August 1942 in France_

He couldn't read the rest of the telegram before he cried out in shock as if he was hit, and fell to the ground in despair, big gulps of air swallowed up by his lungs at the words. _Anyone but him, anyone but him!_ "Why!" He screamed out. His other half, his brother, his best friend: gone from the world and gone from his life. "He can't be…" The world had crashed around him, surrounding him in sharp shards that cut at him and destroyed everything and anything he had ever held dear. This couldn't be his

He found himself being lifted up to his feet and led somewhere that wasn't the cold, barren floor. An accented voice shouted above him as a cold glass was brought to his lips, before his shaking hands assisted the cup in pouring water down his throat. Tears continued down paths on his cheeks, hearing nothing but his heart beating and his blood rushing in his head, seeing nothing but blank nothingness.

He didn't know how long he sat like that, gazing into space; all he remembered was the clanking of glass and an avenging growl that came from his stomach.

"Ya be comin' to now, are ya?" Maggie asked him in a gentle, calm tone as she rearranged the glasses on their shelves. Alfred didn't answer her, quietly bowing his head and staring at his shoes. "Are ya turnin' mute on me now?"

"Let him be, Mags," Dillan cut in, sounding melancholy. "Will I be makin' ya sumthing ta eat, boy? Ya been starin' at th'wall there for a while now."

"I'm fine," Alfred murmured the lie, but the truth was that his stomach was practically craving for food. Luckily, the male twin scoffed and handed him a few slices of bread

"Don't be driving yerself ta depression now. Ya need ta eat somethin' if ya wanna live."

He chuckled lightly at the comment, but the sound was devoid of any real joy, and was filled with mockery instead. "My brother is dead. Both of my parents hate me, they never even took care of me when I was a kid. My brother was the only real blood connection that I ever had. Why should I go on if my entire life is going?"

Maggie stopped cleaning the glass she was holding, and looked at him. "What are ya sayin'?"

"I'm saying I don't want to fight anymore, Maggie. For all of my life, I have disliked my parents. They never cared about me, they never paid attention to me, all they wanted was money and anything that was ridiculously expensive. I kissed a boy when I was seven, got kicked out of five private schools because I didn't like the kids and they didn't like me. The only two people who actually looked at me and accepted me for me were Matthew and his mom, Emily. Mattie and I made a pact that if or when we found someone, that we would still be close with the other no matter what. We had dreams, we wanted to be loved, we were normal human beings and no one ever looked at us!"

The female ginger placed the cup on the counter and frowned. "And what are ya sayin'? Will ya be givin' up now?"

"Because I am totally worthless now. Mattie's dead, my parents don't even know who I am, I'm forced to fight in a war that doesn't concern me. What the hell do you want me to do?"

"Dillan, clean the rest of the glasses for me, will ya?" Maggie's look of hatred through her green eyes sent a chill down Alfred's spine in fright. She was going to give him a talk that he would surely never forget, no matter how hard he tried. But he didn't want that. He wanted to sit in a dark room all by himself and mourn over the loss of his brother and never ever forget him, and just die in peace. That was what he wanted, and that was what he wished.

The ginger-haired woman sat in the small stool across from him, and he glanced up at her through his bangs. "Can I please be alone, Maggie? I don't want to talk to anyone," he admitted in a quiet voice, the fact that it was similar to how his older-by-three-days brother talked squeezing his stomach and causing more droplets of water to fall.

Maggie shook her head, a determined in stubborn glint in her eyes. "Ya listen ta me, Jonesy. I lost my little babby brother to the krauts two years ago. He was a nuisance because Mum always liked him best and he was the odd one at school because he didn't like girls and he was the smartest kid in his classes- my brothers and I used to call 'im stuff like…poof or goody-two-shoes…but he was my brother, and I swear, I wish I could go back in time and fix everythin' that happened, and put myself in his place. Now it pains me, thinkin' that he was killed because of some idiots who want to rule Europe. But my Mum said to me 'Do not hold anything against the Germans. Instead, finish what ya brother would have done if he hadn't died. And ya know what I did?" She reached behind the American and pulled out from beneath the bar a baby blue notebook that was in perfect condition and lavished with gold, cursive writing. "When he was a teen, he made himself this other world wi' fairies and unicorns and all kinds of magical shite. But I took th'doodles and I turned them into a childrens' book. He wanted to be a writer, see, and stay in his room all day and write and write and write. But now, every day, I take a break, I stay in my room and write and write and write and I do it for him, because I don't want his path to die."

She handed him the book, and he could now make out the words on the cover: _Arthur's World._ With a sniff and a glance back up at her, his heart pounding away, he opened up to the first two pages, and stopped when he came to the introduction:

_My brother Arthur Kirkland started to draw this imaginary world when he was thirteen, and never stopped adding to it. He was always ridiculed for his smarts and being different to the other kids, so he created his own world as a safe haven to help him cope and get away from the bullies. He died at the age of twenty-three, on the seventh of September, 1940, when the Germans dropped bombs on London. From the wreck of Arthur's home, we found nothing standing but a shell, the stairs, and his library, where we found and recovered what we could of his body. The books that were still on the shelves were intact and in perfect condition, and we found this sketch book still around and unscathed. I, Maggie Kirkland, Arthur's sister, publish his imaginary world in his memory to keep his world going on._

The American pilot looked up after he was done reading, more tears having filled his eyes. He understood what she was telling him, but he was confused at the same time. "What are you telling me…"

Maggie scratched under her eye, but he knew it was to stop her own tears from being released. "Don't sit around and mourn your brother until you fulfill his dream. And then you can let your tears fall."

Alfred could feel it in his gut that this was the truth, and he knew that he was going to do everything that he could to achieve his dream, but most importantly that of Matthew's.

* * *

><p>Arthur stopped the dream from going any further, and instantly pulled his lover into his arms as soon as they could see each other again. He cradled the sobbing mess of his lover, stroking his hair and letting his own tears silently fall. The body that he supported trembled and shook and wept on him, nuzzling his face into the Brit's bare shoulder. Guilt drowned the angel into regret, and he could do nothing but hold his hand and let him cry and kiss his tears away. He didn't want to question how well Alfred knew Maggie and Dillan, or talk about how Matthew really was his half-brother; he would wait until he was better controlled for that<p>

"It's okay, Dearest," he whispered to him. "Everything will be alright. It's not here anymore, I'm right here." His own words sounded weak and too broken, even to his ears. He knew what it felt like to go through one's past experience. He pressed the side of his finger against the American human's face softly, just as he had done when he had finished going through his own memories. "I'm right here, Luv. See? Can you hear me?"

Alfred gave a loud sniff, and a pained chuckle. "I said the same thing to you, didn't I?" He wondered quietly, and entangled their hands together.

He gave a smile and repeated the sound again. "Oh, my Dearest Poppet…you have no idea how sorry I am for making you go through with this." He had let his lover take his hands and place them on his temple, even though it was partially Alfred's doing as well, so it was too obvious that he blamed himself as well.

Unfortunately, Alfred thought otherwise, and sat up in surprise, face still marked with tears and eyes wide in shock. "Arthur, no, don't apologize! It's my fault that I wanted to go through with this! I should be apologizing!"

"Alfred-" He started to speak, but a gentle had

"My Arthur… My Gorgeous, my Beautiful, my Delicate Rose, my Flawless Beauty." The blue-eyed blond pressed a kiss atop the top of his lover's hand. "I am so sorry I made you cry, my Lovely."

The English angel couldn't help but shake his head with a small rise of his lips. "How did I get so lucky to have someone as sweet and handsome as you?"

Alfred laughed as the smooth fingers of the Brit wiped away what remained of his sorrow, but was stopped when the door to the cell was thrown open, and a bright light consumed them. Arthur, eyes shut with a hiss, felt arms gently lift him up, and he enveloped his upper arms around them, but when he finally gained his sight back, he discovered that the person he had a grip on was not his Alfred, but an angel with large feathered wings and a sculpted body. Powers Ranked angels had come to rescue him.

"Arthur Kirkland," one of them spoke, "we are here to bring you into custody of the Nine Ranks and to bring your soul to Judgment for falling under sin with a demon, and resorting back to your Human Ways."

It took a few seconds for the Brit to realized what was happening, and before he knew it, he was being carried away as a more irradiated light shredded around them in a circle. He fought against the brightness, and threw himself over the Powers Angel to the floor, banging his chin on concrete and not caring if it cracked open. He flung the metal door open and collapsed into his confused lover's arms with a loud cry. "Don't let them take me, Alfred, _please_! I want to stay with you!" He begged, a feeling of desperation overcoming him and making his mind seem discombobulated.

Alfred, as soon as they had come into contact, tautly wound his upper limbs around his lover and held him close, rocking back and forth as he did so. "It's okay, Beautiful, I'm right here," he quietly assured him, placing a kiss against his cheek. "Nothing will get to you, I promise."

The Powers Ranks angels appeared inside the cell and attempted to pry the Briton away, but he was too tightly compressed to the human's chest. The Englishman would bet money that the American was stronger than the Powers Angels combined, both mentally and physically, and there was no way he was going to let go anytime soon.

Arthur's grip around his lover's throat tightened enough so that he wasn't choking Alfred, but so that it was difficult to pry them away. One of the fighter angels' hands started to glow, and he placed it against the American's eyes. A scream immediately ripped its way out of his throat, and fell backwards, shouting out in surprise and pain, fingers rubbing over his eyelids, one arm still wrapped around his waist weakly. But even with the older blonde's iron grip on him, with the former pilot sprawled on his back, the Powers Angels were able to lift Arthur up to his feet.

The Brit thrashed and screamed furiously, shouting "ALFRED!" continuously and loudly, bringing his fists to whatever he could find. Gold manacles were attached to his wrists tautly, and he used that to toss into any of their faces. Alfred was weakly crawling to them, one hand still over his eyes as the other helped him move, but he quickly sprung up and dove forward, wrapping his arms around his lover's legs. Arthur bent down to him and let himself be tossed carefully onto the comforting shoulder. A deep, threatening growl sounded, and he couldn't help but smile at the sound.

"No one goes towards Arthur," he growled, backing up as he tried to get around them to the exit. Unfortunately, they had been standing behind a few sharp and definitely wound-creating objects, and the American tripped over a sharp club and onto his back with a cry of surprise, causing his lover to tumble a few feet away from him with a groan as his skin came to contact with pointy objects as well, one specifically hitting his head roughly, which spun from too much pressure of the weapon that had banged into his skull and the loss of blood from his body. He could barely move or call out as his body was lifted up by unfamiliar arms that were not his Alfred's, and he slowly yet unwillingly let the darkness take him over into unconsciousness.

**Just as a note:**

**Canada/Matthew died in the Battle of Dieppe, or the Dieppe Raid, which was mainly British and Canadian forces against the Germans. The battle took place in northern France, I believe, and the Canadians suffered I think, like...6000 or something like that. Poor Canadia :( And as a random fact, Alfie died in the Battle of the Bulge :3 Ah, dammit, spoiler! XD**


	32. Troubled

**I own nothing but the plot. Hidekaz Himaruya owns Arthur, even though in the yaoi universe, that's really Alfred who owns him *shot***

**I'm tired, going to the Grand Canyon, finished this days ago and it was bugging me so I updated it. Yep :I Night, and enjoy~!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 32:<p>

Troubled

Arthur hadn't realized where he was until someone had placed him in a soft chair made from white marble in what was supposedly Purgatory, his body completely healed of any physical wounds and his mind wiped clean of what had happened.

He remembered his birth, his death, his family, Yao and Matthew, but there was a large space beside that that was filled with eyes the color of a clear sky that would shame the shade of a sapphire, a smile that was bright and filled with more love than one could ever know, and a voice smooth and young and full of compliments that made his heart flutter from the kindness but his attitude wary.

What had happened? Had his mind been wiped of something important that had happened? Had he been dreaming of a situation but could vaguely remember it? Where was Yao to explain all of this?

In caution, he stood up slowly, and walked to the nearest angel. "Um, excuse me, sir," he lightly tapped the tall male on the shoulder. "I don't mean to be a bother, but, well…I've no memory of the past few days' events. Can you please explain whot happened to me?"

The taller examined him in silence for a few more seconds before he answered; "You were taken as a prisoner of Satan a few days ago and have returned. However, your sins with a demon have led you here to wait out your years of punishment."

Arthur blinked in slight shock. He had gone to Hell? And…he had sinned? With a demon? That couldn't be right… And yet, somehow, it all felt as if he was living a nightmare right now, sitting in Purgatory, and he had a strong surge to be with that demon, whoever he was. He didn't want to be here, trapped here for who knew how long. He wanted to be with that demon. "Can I go back to him?"

"I have been given orders to keep you in here at all times until you have regained full pureness once again and can be released into Heaven once again. But you are to never leave the clouds again."

The English angel furrowed his eyebrows together in deep thought. They planned to keep him up here until he was once again able to live an angel's life again? To him, despite the fact that he was missing an amount of his memory, that sounded horrible. He didn't want to go back to living an angel's life again. He wanted to see that male, that demon, that was in his head and see what was so special about him. "Can you at least tell me where he is?"

"I am not permitted to give you such information."

"Well…" He bit his lower lip in concentration. What could he ask that seemed fair enough? "Whot happened to my memory? I feel like there's a big chunk missing from it and I need to know it, but I don't know whot it is that's missing."

The angel guarding his path didn't seem annoyed, but his voice was covered in unknown abhorrence. "In order to bring you past the gates, a few Powers Angels had to wipe your memory of any interaction you had had with this demon so that they could get you into Heaven again."

_Of course they did. And I'm called a Feathered Snob._ "Ah, well…thank you for your help, I suppose." Arthur, in defeat, sat back down where he had previously been and slid his head into his hands as they resided on top of his knees.

_Whot am I to do? I feel as if I have an obligation to get to this mysterious man. But who is he? I don't know where Yao and Matthew are, the guard over here won't tell me a thing, I have a gigantic piece of my memory wiped, and I'm about to go homicide on someone if I don't get my answers soon. I need to know who that voice is, those eyes, that man…_

_But no one's willing to tell me, goddamn it! If this guard here is saying this or that and not being very damn helpful at all, then how big are my chances that anyone else will reply to me? Slim, I would bet. Damn gits. All they do is bask in their own glow and talk about how magical or perfect they are. It makes me sick! No one wants to hear it, you're certainly not perfect. Ugh. Why aren't I a demon already?_

…

…

…

_Ah. There we go. Some of it's starting to come back. Whoever I was with, the Blue-Eyed Man, we wanted to change me into a demon. And it seems like the better choice, almost; demons have much more freedoms than us angels. Ah, there's a bit more coming through. Something about…about…_

_A trial…just like whot I went through?_

_No…that can't be possible! I mean, can it? Demons have boundaries, apparently, by whot my lost memory is showing me. But it's still not enough! Who was that man? He was breathtakingly handsome and loving and kind and joyful. But that's all I seem to know right about now._

_Ooh._

…

_How about an escape plan?_

…

_That would work._

_That would definitely work._

After critically thinking about this and slowly regaining more pieces of his memory, Arthur stood up and stretched backwards slightly, giving a petite yawn and a loosening of the muscles in his arms so as not to seem suspicious. Good, the guard was looking the other way, and wouldn't be able to see him.

He crept up behind him silently, in the air and poised, ready to attack. With a quick swooping motion, he pushed his sandal-clad feet into the angel's back and jumped off it as he was propelled downwards. he regained whatever momentum he could and started into a half-stumble, half-glide to the edge of the clouds that led to the Surface. _Hair like wheat, eyes like the sky. Hair like wheat, eyes like the sky._ He chanted the words as if they were going to keep him alive; if he could get over to the edge of the clouds in time, he could hopefully find who he was looking for.

He nearly fell over the edge as he landed, having to spread his wings out to give him air leverage and to dig the toes of his feet and sandals into the marble. His emerald eyes searched the people below as if his life depended on it. _Hair like wheat, eyes like the sky. Hair like wheat, eyes like the-_

Was that him? He was on the Surface, sitting in an empty field by himself in what looked to be tranquility and peace. He seemed extremely and painfully familiar, so much that he could be the one who could replace the empty hole in his memories. He wasn't bothering anybody, and from this view, he seemed absolutely gorgeous. Arthur couldn't help but smile. This had to be the man he was looking for.

But just as he lifted his body off the floor and was about to dive forward, a crowd of angels enveloped their upper limbs around his body and towed him away from the edge. Not going down without a fight, he refused them harshly, pleading to get back to the edge. Unfortunately, no one decided to answer him or comply with his wishes, and he was now not only stuck in Purgatory with more than four guards at the door, but he was now also chained to the floor and unable to escape.

* * *

><p><em>Well isn't this just great. I just love being trapped and chained to the floor so I can't get out. Oh yes, it is my total lifelong dream and desire to do that!<em>

_Ugh. I am really aching to be a demon right now._

_But first…that boy. That handsome, quiet, painfully alone boy, with the hair like wheat and the eyes of sapphires, sitting alone in that field as if he was waiting for something to arrive. Or perhaps it's some__one__._

_A British someone, an angel Briton who cannot even remember who was so important in his memories. Why can't I name his face or recall his name? It can't be this hard to get a name! I mean…this was my lover, for God's sake! We had done everything together in the week and a half or so that he had known each other! He loved me, I loved him, he kissed me, I kissed him, I made promises, he made promises, we made love more times than someone alive would probably ever be able to handle!_

…

_Well…at least I know how close this person was to me._

_He was my dear lover. My North, my South, my East, my West. My dear, my…Poppet, my Darling, my Luv, my Lovely, my Dear._

…

_Quite a lot of nicknames for one single person._

_But, then again…I was his…Beautiful, his Gorgeous, his Lovely, his Pretty Angel, his Flawless Beauty, his…his Thornless Rose. Doesn't that mean "true love", he told me?_

_I have his position, I have his current status, I have his appearance, I have the names of endearment which we called each other. Now I need his name._

…

…

…

…

…

_God fucking dammit all to goddamn shitting burning bloody bleeding Hell goddamn it! Why did they have to take away my lover from me? He was the only thing I had when I was his "prisoner", he was so kind and nice and sweet- and his smell was intoxicating! It was wheat or cocoa beans or chocolate or just his natural smell- it was enough to make me intoxicated. Oh, whoever this male may be, whoever you are, my mysterious lover, I only hope that you are suffering in a different way that I am, and I wish that I can place your character to a name._

…

_Dear Mysterious Lover, my name is Arthur Kirkland. I am a Londoner who died in the London Blitz that was somehow over seventy years ago. Would you mind helping me? I seemed to have forgotten whot your name is, and it is driving me bonkers. A rather large, ugly chuck of our time spent together has been taken away from me, and I need to know who you are. I need to know your importance, and I want to know if you still love me._

…

_Worse written self-pity mind-letter ever created. I'm definitely going bonkers._

* * *

><p>Minutes turned into hours, and hours seemed endless as Arthur waited for the chains to be undone and for the stream of guards to disappear. He didn't need them hanging around him as if he was suddenly going to sprout claws and lash out at them. And although it seemed so long ago since he had tried his escape, he was getting restless. He was about to start fighting them and forcing them to free him if no one did anything about it. His patience was thin, and his mood was sour. If God or someone else wanted him to become completely and one hundred percent pure, then they would have to do a better job at doing so. So far, he had cursed the angels in his head so dirtily and continuously, the words themselves would not be able to be written without some offense coming to someone. He wouldn't doubt it if he had stretched his sentence here longer.<p>

For the umpteenth time since he had gotten there, he stood up to try and see how far he could move, but was pushed him back, rudely, to his seat. He plopped back down with a frown and scowl, but went back up on two legs again as soon as they walked away. Two more angel guards pushed him down and held him down by his shoulders, so he couldn't move. He glared up at them harshly, as if his piercing emerald eyed stare would incinerate them to oblivion.

"Do you mind?" He sneered. "I'm trying to get back to my lover."

"You have no lover," the angel on his right informed him apathetically.

"You never had one, Arthur Kirkland," the one on his left interjected. "It's best if you stop coming up with insane stories and relax. You're going to be here for a long while."

"You don't understand, I _need_ to find him!" The Brit snapped, thrashing his body to try and get to his feet. "I saw him! He had blond hair that looked like caramel, and he had beautiful blue eyes! That's all I remember from whot you blokes erased from my mind! It has to be him! It can't be anyone else!"

The two men detached the manacles that were on his sandals and ankles, and lifted him up into the air so that his feet hovered inches above the ground, only causing him to try and escape even more as they started to walk. He shouted vulgarities and obscenities at them, rearing his head and wings back painfully to attempt to flip over their backs and get away from this place. But their grasp was taut and his struggles were weak and meaningless. Nonetheless, he knew he had to at least try and escape. It was the only thing he could do.

Still yelling out curses of slang and vulgarity, he was led past the entrance and to a chamber laden with gold and white marble architecture and a strong feeling of magic shrouding it. The two angels tossed him into the middle of the space, not giving him enough time to gain awareness, and sealed the door with a large slab of marble and most likely their bodies.

Arthur sat up from the center of the floor and examined his new surroundings. The building was shaped like half a circle, the only source of light coming from the light of the gold marble. It radiated a heat that comforted him, but frightened him at the same time. The only exit was through the way he had just come from, and he wasn't strong enough to move the block of marble. Whatever this chamber was meant for, it wasn't anything good—if the humming that had started a while ago and the rise of temperature that was slowly getting louder and louder was anything to go by, that is.

_Goddamn it. They're going to force me to change back to a pure state._

The Englishman scrambled to his feet in alarm and sprinted across the space to the bare wall, pushing on any stone to see if he could move it. His palms dug into sharp edges, causing him to wince but he nonetheless tried to fight unsuccessfully. He beat his wings up and flew to the very top, trying to take the building apart as fast as he could. His nails scratched thin until they were at an equal level with his skin, and his wings were slowly tiring down until they were heavy with fatigue. The heat in the room was stifling, and it was gradually but definitely weighing him down. His body now exhausted from the physical work, Arthur slowly lowered himself down to the ground until he was sitting in the center of the floor again. His hair was plastered to his forehead and his feathers were ruffled from exhaustion.

_Damn…they really know whot to do to make someone pure again, don't they? Heh…too bad they hae a stubborn Brit to deal with. They can try as much as they can, but they can be dust and I'll still be here, refusing to be uncontaminated and innocent._

Arthur ran both hands through his hair and tousled it a bit, letting out a short breath in exhaustion. He didn't want this to be the end of him, but he knew he didn't have a high chance of getting away. And yet he still didn't know who his mysterious lover.

"_I really had thought you had died, after we had made the promise not to separate from one another willingly."_

"_I'm so happy to see you back here." "Back where?" "In my arms, of course."_

"_I love you longer than…hmm…longer than my wings can stretch!"_

"…_I don't care what you do…as long as you love me and…all of me."_

"_My love is eternal, and endless, and can go for longer than me. It won't stop, and I promise you that I will never stop its rolling…and I will never stop loving you."_

The English angel clutched his head in pain. "Wh-whot the hell is that…" _That voice…it has to be him…I can't suffer any longer from this…_

"_It's alright now. I'm right here with you, my Beautiful Arthur. Right here, see?"_

"_I'm going to protect you forever. I'm going to stay by your side forever. I'm going to love you forever."_

"_You can take all the flowers of the Surface and put them into bouquets of a dozen, and even then their beauty will not match yours."_

"_My love is longer than it takes for the farthest planet in space to rotate around the sun."_

"…_I want to kiss you right now…"_

"_I'm just going…to take your cheeks…and pull it close…and place the best kiss ever, filled with love, onto your smooth pink lips._"

"Whot the hell!" Arthur shouted, fisting his hair as he leaned over himself in agony. More scenes and visions of this mysterious person as a demon flashed through his head, and he shouted in agony at both the mental and emotional feelings that overwhelmed him.

"_You're only ever going to be meant for me and no one else, no matter what happens!"_

"_I don't care what my boss says or what the Harvesters do to us, Arthur… I love you now, I'll love you beyond forever, and I won't stop loving you no matter what happens to us, okay? And…I don't know if you love me back, but…I don't care, because I don't ever want to leave your side."_

"_I am going to do anything to protect you from them no matter what it takes… I promise. I will risk anything for your safety."_

"_I felt like I had betrayed the one I love."_

"_Do you feel that, Delicate Rose? You're the reason my heart beats. There's no one else in the whole world who can make me feel like this."_

"_D-do you have a name?" "…Alfred."_

_Alfred._

"Alfred."

Arthur said the name in wonderment and glory as he finally put the pieces of the puzzle together. Alfred.

How could he forget such a name as his?

Alfred.

Guilt and shock flooded his mind and caused it to spin slightly. _How could I do that to him, oh dear Lord, why me?_

Alfred.

_He is my faithful lover, my Poppet, my Dear, my Lovely, my Luv, my Dearest. My Alfred that makes everything perfect and safe and wonderful again. My Alfred whom I love with all of me._

Alfred.

He had overcome the magic of the Powers angels, somehow he didn't know.

Alfred.

But that didn't matter right now.

Alfred.

It didn't make a difference.

Alfred.

He knew who he was.

Alfred.

He knew what his purpose was.

He was Arthur Kirkland, lover to Alfred Jones, the silly yet handsome yet devoting yet loving yet perfect American demon- now human- that he had fallen in love with. And no one would ever take that away from him.


	33. Escape

**Ciao~! Guess who's back from the Grand Canyon~! :D Yeah, that was a half-shitty, half awesome week. And I didn't realize until yesterday that it will be a week until I post this...Yep -_-**

**But I return for more awesomeness to give you like ze awesome Prussia~! Speaking of Prussia, did you see the dubbed version of Prussia trying to give Ludwig beer? PIGSIUBGRSIUBGRSIUBGBT IT'S AWESOMEEEEE "Ze awesome taste of zis stuff brings awesome tears to my awesome eyes" PRUSSIAAAAAAAAAAA**

**Okay, so, anyways, reunion chapter, blah blah blah, spoilers~! Okay, so~! I own nothing but the plot. The awesome Hidekaz Himaruya owns familiar characters. And, as usual:**

**Enjoy~!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 33:<p>

Escape

_Arthur Kirkland._

_Former Londoner._

_Current lover to Alfred Jones._

_That's who I am._

_That's who I've always been._

_And that's whot I'm going to fulfill._

Arthur glanced up at the ceiling in determination. Alfred was waiting for him on the Surface; he had to get there quickly before something drastic happened and he was changed to a pure angel again. But you would have to be stupid to try and do that to him. He was going to make sure no one got any hold on him unless it was from his American lover.

_I'm going to get out of here. And then I'm going to come to you, just like we wanted, and our hands can fill up those empty spaces._

With new motivation sprouting inside of him, he spread his feathered wings wide and glided upwards to the center of the domed ceiling. The palms of his hands met gold marble, and he balanced and positioned himself underneath the very center. He would have to push his way out. It was the only way. Plus, there _had_ to be a few loose blocks of marble loose. The Brit knew that this method would have to work if he wanted to escape.

The angel lowered himself a bit, and then propelled back upwards, hands meeting the gold rectangle again with a new force. _I'm not going to fail, I can't fail, my Alfred, my dear Alfred needs me._ He repeated the motions several times, backing up before expelling his body upwards again. The only thing that kept him from failing was the fact that his lover was waiting for him and the room was getting hotter as the humming noise increased in pitch. Blood and gold, the latter from his healing system, started to slowly seep out of small cuts on his hands. His only option was to ignore it and to carry on calmly.

Finally, just when he was going to go mad and start to throw his body against it, the marble started to move upwards a bit. Arthur smiled wide. _Got it!_ He threw his arm against it and pushed it despite a new scrape that had formed. Gradually, as the pitch of the humming and the intense heat once again amplified, he was able to free one block and get it out on the top of the dome. He eagerly pushed it out of his way, and started pulling with all of his might to get the rest free. _Alfred, Alfred, Alfred, Alfred, Alfred, Alfred, Alfred-_

The blond moved out of the way quickly as more marble pieces descended to the ground, and he wormed his way out of his escape and to the very top of the dome. He was able to roll his body down to the clouds as the humming stopped and heat spread all around him, encasing him and causing him to cry out—

_The Blitz, burning, anger, hatred, hurt, pain, burning, burning, burning—_

_No, stop it Arthur, you're not there anymore, you're not in the Blitz. You're going to—_

_But the pain oh God it hurts someone stop it, ah! Please, someone, anyone, make this stop hurting oh God—_

_You need to stay strong, you're not there anymore! That already happened, your life is already ended, now you have a new one to start with—_

_Oh my God, it won't stop, it won't ever, ever stop and you know that oh God it burns someone stop it before—_

_Alfred. You're with Alfred now. That's the best place for you, and you know that. Don't let this get to you._

Arthur righted himself on the ground as he forced the memory away. That was his past. That was his pain. That was his time of loneliness and fairy tales and dreams that never had a chance.

That wasn't where he wanted to go.

He was needed elsewhere, in that warm pair of arms that enclosed him away from everything else. He was needed elsewhere, where a warm smile and twinkling of eyes sped up his heartbeat. He was needed elsewhere, with the handsome and foolish and charming and beautiful and waiting American boy, Alfred Jones.

The Briton smiled, at first, savoring in the relief that he had survived, before letting out a small chuckle.

He had gotten himself out of the mess. And now, it was time to return to his beloved Poppet.

* * *

><p>Unfortunately, since this would only ever happen to him, as Arthur had snuck away from guards and acted as if he didn't know where he was going and wandered somewhere he didn't know to find an exit, he finally found a gate that was swarmed with demons.<p>

Perfect.

He froze in his spot and made eye contact with them, and they did the same. Some of them looked the same, mostly those who were bloodlust demons, and they snarled and started to reach for him. He took a step back and gave a deep sound from his throat right back at them. Some of them ceased, but others only got louder, and he mimicked them. No one growled at him like that. Not in the state he was in.

"Arthur aru!"

His heart nearly stopped at the familiar voice that he knew so well, with the verbal tick at the end of it. "Yao…?"

The Chinese demon, with his now bright scarlet eyes and his claret tresses in its usual ponytail, pushed his way from the back of the crowd to the front of the gate, where he was followed by Kiku, Matthew and Francis. Arthur met the four at the gate, clutching the bars of the entrance in shock. They had come after all! He knew they would have to at some point, obviously, but to see them here with Sons that were so thirsty for blood was amazing.

"We looked everywhere in Heaven for you aru!" Yao exclaimed, eyes shining with joy at him and his hands grasping onto Arthur's. "We almost thought you had been banished and fallen!"

"The Powers think they can get me to be pure again," he replied, still overcome with shock. "I can't believe you're actually here, though!"

"Of course we'd come!" Matthew grinned. "Besides, there's someone still waiting for you."

_Alfred…_ Arthur bit his lip in worry. "How is he fairing? Does he know I'm okay?"

"All we knew was that you were taken away from him. When we found him on the Surface, wandering around London, he said he'd been looking for you and was worried. He'd thought you might've fallen in a different time, or somewhere there."

_My poor dearest…_ "Take me to him. I tried to get to him before, but I was caught."

"Zese angels will do anyzing to stop you," Francis smirked. "'ere, open ze gate and we will take you down to 'im."

At this, the Briton hesitated. On one hand, if he opened the gate, he would be able to get to Alfred and save him. But doing that would release the demons into Heaven. He could barely remember a time when he denied the demons entrance, where he would've fainted at the fact of letting them in. But this was different. Once he had gone up to the gate, most of the Sons of the Dark had grown silent. Maybe they were having second thoughts about being rude to him?

"Arthur aru?" Yao worriedly tightened his grip. "Why you look so nervous? You're going to see Alfred, right aru?"

"The other demons…," he started, but was stopped by Kiku.

"Ze demons behind us do not wish harm on you," the Japanese male stated in his clear yet accented voice. "Zey want angers who have not been tainted yet."

The Mandarin angel smiled at his lover, before looking back at Arthur with the same expression. "They know what will happen if they bother you aru. We won't let them."

The Briton knew just how well he could trust Yao, almost as much as he could trust Alfred. And although he had never seen any of the four get angry (besides Francis, after he had locked Matthew in the library), he held no doubt that they wouldn't think twice on releasing their tempers. And so, while managing to give a small smile, his fingers wrapped around the latch of the gate and lifted it up, before he stepped back a few feet and opened the demons' entrance and his exit. With it, he had turned his back to Heaven and was now against them, now forced to either be a fallen angel or a demon. Either sounded better than being away from Alfred.

As soon as Arthur had lifted the latch up and opened the gate, the other demons howled and reared back before diving forward and going through the gates, now not paying attention to the angel. Once the others had gone, Arthur and Yao finally embraced the other, the Mandarin-speaking demon smelling exactly the same as he always had: of bamboo and fresh Asian cuisine. It had never faded off from him, and he wasn't the least bit surprised that it hadn't.

"You smell like tea and scones aru," Yao laughed.

The Brit did the same. "You smell like bamboo and rice."

The Chinese male chuckled, and took a step back, examining the angel in front of him quizzically. "You healed?"

"I didn't but I think the Powers angels did." He looked past them at the open gate to his freedom, what he had wanted to have ever since he had ended up back here. He could hear the Powers angels' weapons and armor clinking together, and he knew they were coming after them. "We should go now. I'll explain everything on our way to Alfred."

"Agreed aru." He nodded as a confirmation, but then beamed wide and hugged his friend again. "I'm so happy you're safe."

"As am I, dear friend." He returned the envelopment with a soft smile. "As am I."

Suddenly, he felt hands push at his back and the duo stumbled forward, backwards for Yao, and the loud clank of metal alerted the two that the gates had been closed and Kiku, Francis and Matthew were on the other side. The three looked behind them, one in alarm and what seemed to be worry, and the other two in determination.

"You two go to Alfred," the Frenchman gently smiled. "We shall 'elp fend off ze angels."

"But whot about… Won't you get hurt?" Arthur wondered, hands gripping the bars of the gate. He couldn't let them do this! They were supposed to come with him!

"We'll be okay," Matthew assured him. "Besides, demons take less damage than angels do."

"Matthew-"

"And my brother's waiting for you." The Canadian smiled, and grabbed a hold of the blonde's hand. "We promised that we would get you to him, and that's what we're going to do." He squeezed the hand in his clasp before letting go, turning around and gripping Francis' hand. "_Mon amour. Je suis prêt._" (1)

"_Ensuite, laissez-nous combattre côte à côte_," (2) Francis answered, and with a quick change, the two were off in cheetah and polar bear form, snarling and roaring and chasing the angels away. Kiku stayed behind, quietly talking in Japanese to Yao, who responded in Mandarin. Arthur couldn't help but pity them; here he was, hoping to once again see his lover and yet here was his close friend and _his_ lover having been separated. He couldn't make out much of what they were saying, having learned no Japanese beside the common greeting and only a bit of Mandarin, but he could tell they were both distraught on leaving the other. Through the gate, their hands were intertwined, and every once in a while, the shorter would peck the thin hand, and the long-haired demon would protest or whimper something back. Kiku leaned up and pressed a kiss against his lips hastily before pulling back and whispering a soft yet barely audible "_Aishiteru_". Yao nodded with a sniffle, and mumbled a saddened "_Wo ai ni aru_" before the Japanese male went one way, transforming to a stork hastily, and the other turning back to the angel.

"He going to fight aru," he muttered underneath his breath, hugging his upper arms sadly. Arthur could do nothing than to pull him into a tight hug and comfort him, rubbing his back soothingly to calm him down. He flinched when he felt the other start to quiver, knowing just how hard it was to separate from someone who has a hold of your heart.

The duo stayed in the embrace for what seemed to be forever but what was a minute or so. Finally, the Chinese demon wiped at his eyes weakly and sniffled. "_Duìbùqǐ ā lǔ_." (3)

"Don't be sorry." He took the other's hand and rubbed over it soothingly. "It's hard to be separated from them, I know."

_Sniff._ "But…it for good cause aru." Yao straightened himself up, stretching his wings out before they relaxed against his back. "Come. You should have been with Alfred long time ago aru."

Arthur couldn't agree more.

* * *

><p>"Arthur aru… What happened to you in Heaven?"<p>

The duo had been flying beside each other in a comfortable silence save the sound of their flapping wings. Arthur had been thinking of how to explain what had happened to him when the question came up, and he looked over at his Mandarin-speaking friend quizzically. "Whot do you mean?"

Yao bit his lower hip in thought for a moment before answering. "I mean…your wings sound heavy aru. Like…something blocking them from working. Are you alright?"

He had a point there. His entire body was still heavy with fatigue from the intense heat in the chamber, and his hands were cut yet healing. He wasn't going to hide anything from him. "Well… the other angels tried to force me to change back but I refused to. They thought that they would be able to get me to change back but they failed. Even removed my memories of Alfred, they were that positive. But I know now that I can no longer be like this. I don't represent the image at all."

The older was silent for a moment, nibbling his lower lip in thought with a hum. Arthur could tell he was trying to make sense of what he had just said, and he didn't blame him. It was quite a lot to take in for them. It wasn't every day you were a demon that just heard your best friend, an angel, had had some amnesia and that he knew he didn't deserve to be such a being any longer. And he wasn't worthy of the wings or the halo, because they represented wanting peace and tranquility for everyone. Arthur knew that there were steps you had to take to get there first, and he no longer characterized those angelic traits.

"You had your memory wiped aru?" He questioned after the quietness. The blond cringed at the mention and the thought. He was still in some leftover shock that it had actually happened to him, and he hoped that it didn't occur again. All he wanted was to be happy and alone with Alfred for the rest of eternity, but apparently, to some beings, that was too much to ask.

"Apparently, one of the guards stated that because my mind was too 'plagued' with demonic thoughts, so they had to wipe Alfred away from them," he clarified as best he could. "And it was the most horrible feeling I've ever felt."

"Hm…" There was another pause and a glance away before the next question. "And…you remember everything?"

"That and more." Oh, much more than just who he was going to. "Alfred grew up a rich boy, protected by a maid until she received a strange illness and died when he was young. He was rebellious against his mother and did everything he could to bother her. His parents never truly appreciated him due to several reasons, and he would run away to the Hoovervilles in Central Park in New York City and stay with his half-brother, or we know him as Matthew. They made a vow to stay close to each other through their years growing up and went into the Second World War beside each other, before Matthew's death in the Battle of Dieppe. Alfred was destroyed over the news, but it was my older sister Maggie and a drawing book of mine that she had published to push him onwards."

Yao looked at him as if he had lost his mind. "Y-you…b-but, how-"

"I searched his memories, Yao. Don't fret, old friend." He knew that was a little too much personal information, but he could trust the other with as much as he could tell, and none of it would ever reach someone else's ears.

The Chinese demon stared at him for a few minutes, before managing a soft smile. "I'm happy you're back aru."

The duo ducked under a cloud and started to make a dive for the Surface as its noises grew louder and louder the more they and time passed, signaling they were approaching land. "How has everyone else faired?"

"Most of them are still fighting bloodlust demons, but some have managed to escape and start planning more attacks. We plan to overtake Satan in a few days aru." The glimpse in his eyes was one of determination and readiness, something that was unfamiliar to see in the usually cheerful irises. "As soon as you and Alfred return, we start."

"You sound as if…you're going to war."

"War is closest thing to call this on-going battle. Besides angels versus demons, there has been a revolting group of demons ever since Alfred arrived. He started it, and others have been joining and making it grow. Our group, the one that Ludwig managed when we were planning to save Alfred, is the main base. The four of us barely had time to get up here to try and find you. Those demons you saw, at the gate, they're with us. They respect you almost as much as they respect Alfred."

Now _this_ seemed a bit too much to take in all at once. "Wh-whot are you saying, that…there's a revolution going on right now in Hell?"

Yao looked like he was going to answer, but as he opened his mouth to reply, he was stopped by a loud bell tower that was announcing the time as it had been built to. The two looked out in front of them at the city they were approaching as it came to view. And Arthur couldn't believe it.

London looked just as good from the Surface's level as it had from an aerial view. It was still messily crowded and overcome with tourists and residents, and there were much more cars on the road than when he was alive. Big Ben and Westminster Abbey looked just as majestic and regal and beautiful as always, the tower telling the time as the Brit and his close friend gently winded over the Thames River. The Tower Bridge was a grand sight, as usual. He could see the Tower of London out of the corner of his eye. And even the newer attractions of the City of London, with the egg-shaped building that amazed him, and the London Eye that was so large and beautiful. Everything of his city-once-home was beautiful and gorgeous in its own way.

"You miss it a lot, I bet aru." The English angel looked back at Yao with a sorrow that filled up his entire eyes, and the older patted his shoulder comfortingly. He didn't have to use any words to comfort him. The gesture was as warm and soothing as always, as the touch had always been, and that alone was enough to assure him.

The two continued on their way until they were hovering above Hyde Park. Arthur remembered it as a popular meeting spot for he and his siblings once they were older, and he recalled coming out here for walks with Holmes and Juliet, or just stopping by underneath the Upside-down tree to write in the seclusion. Just to the side, he could see the very tree itself, and he hoped that he would be able to see it again. Yao gestured towards a large rock with illegible-from-this-height engraving on the side, and the two landed just in front of the path leading to it.

"Alfred said he would meet you here." The demon glanced around him, as if the American was going to appear soon, but so far, they had seen absolutely no one on their way here. "Hm…maybe he walking around aru."

"I can wait for him." The words were uttered breathlessly, and his heart pounded in his chest. He needed this moment. He couldn't wait any longer. He ached to see his beloved poppet again. He didn't know how much longer he would be able to wait.

The Chinese Son of the Dark didn't seem too sure, and placed his hands on his shoulders, rubbing them as if to soothe them both. "Are you sure Arthur? I'm going to go back and help the others aru. Will you be alright until Alfred comes by?"

"Of course I will." He took the hands in his own and squeezed them. "I promise."

Yao looked uncertain, but he nodded, and pulled the Briton into one last, quick hug. "I'll be back when we finish in Heaven aru. No one is around, I made sure of it, but still…please be careful aru."

"I will, Yao." He could tell his friend was worried, just by the way he used his verbal tick two consecutive times instead of separated by one sentence without it at the end. Finally, with one last final embrace of the other and their final farewells and good luck, Arthur was alone.

A soft breeze passed by him, and he shivered, pulling his legs together and rubbing his upper arms with a clack of his teeth. It was awfully chilly today. What day was it? Not that it mattered, but it would be nice to know. The rock was beautiful and was a representative for a holocaust that occurred. It must have been the one during the Second World War, the one he had heard about after his death. How had that been hidden from the rest of the world? He wondered if the Upside-down tree, his tree, was unoccupied. He didn't want to go and find someone there. That would be embarrassing and awkward and quite the story, and where the bloody fuck was Alfred?

Yao said he would be here, and yet here Arthur stood, slightly chilly, waiting as patiently as he allowed himself before biting on his lip to silence his thoughts. He was frustrated, he was upset, he was angry. He needed to be in those arms now, and yet he didn't even know _where_ the owner of the arms was! He _needed_ that voice, _needed_ that touch, _needed_ that kiss, _needed_…

Fuck it, he needed everything! Everything about his lover that made him unique and Alfred! He was thirsty, and he needed to drink it, to fill up the once again present loneliness inside of him! He was quivering not just from the cold but from deprivation of everything of Alfred! His aroma, his touch, his look, his eyes, his face, his smile, his hair, his love, his—

"Arthur."

The Briton whizzed around in alarm, and would've cried out in joy if he hadn't been stopped by the lump in his throat. He was dressed as he had last seen him: in a brown Air Force uniform- tan slacks and jacket, and what looked to be a white dress shirt and green tie underneath- that sat under a brown leather Air Force jacket, complete with the black fleece around the collar. His shoes were black and polished, and seemed impeccable. His eyes were in the flawless form of sapphires, and the cowlick had remained ever so persistent and above his hairline that led to his golden head of gold wheat. The only difference was that he had thin-wired glasses that sat just on his nose. He was here. He was here and perfect and as lovely as ever.

"Alfred."

**Translations:**

**Mon amour, je suis prêt**: _My love, I am ready_

**Ensuite, laissez-nous combattre côte à côte**: Then let us fight side by side

**Duìbùqǐ ā lǔ_:_**I'm sorry (aru) (**also, just as a note, out of the other Chinese dialects, Yao speaks Mandarin fluently and Cantonese as just...regular.**)


	34. Together

**Man...what is up with the really late update? I mean, it's not like totally bad but it's still long. Oh crap, that's what she said! XDDD**

**Okay, ummm fluff! Lotta fluff. Suffocating fluff. I mean, I even had trouble writing so much fluff. I nearly died. But I kept calm and carried on :D *pft so unoriginal***

**But yeah~! That's what's happening. Also, I make a promise to you now, you will definitely be seeing more of the minor couples, especially NiChu and Franada as of late. But GerIta and Spamano will definitely be seen again~! Even some DenNor and SuFin! ^-^ Poor Iceland though...he doesn't have anyone D: Well, besides Hong Kong, but I can't kill him too. That's a lot of nations to kill.**

**Oh, and I gots fanart to show you guys! 8DDDD Thank you MikkiHasACookieForYou for drawing two pictures for this story~ I adore them both! And thank you to whoever else is drawing! I managed to conjure up some crappy drawing of the two of them last night, so if you wanna see the halfway project of it, I'm about to post it on Tumblr (lady-skarlett . tumblr . com) (oh look, my Tumblr appeared XDDD) so go see it if you want!**

**So! I own nothing but the plot. Hidekaz Himaruya owns all characters. So, as usual:**

**Enjoy~!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 34:<p>

Together

Arthur couldn't find the strength to even take a breath. His heart was going too fast, his hands were trembling from something else besides the cold, his legs quaked from holding up his body for too long, his thoughts were all boggled and running around his head in a jumble. The only thing he could make out from all of it was _Alfred._ The only thing he could see, his Lovely, his Dearest, his Poppet, his Luv, his Precious. Tears pricked at his eyes, but he didn't want to prevent them from falling. Human or not, this was his lover, in a different appearance. He needed contact. The two of them were standing miles apart, it seemed like, as if they were strangers who had just caught one another's interest.

Alfred made what looked like a gulp, and shuffled a bit, rubbing the back of his head with a nervous chuckle that sounded too forced. "I…I really missed you…," he began in a sliver of a quiet voice that rapidly sped up the Brit's heart and sounded strong yet young, and so insecure and innocent.

"I…" The angel had to gulp before continuing. "I-I-I as well… Very much so, actually."

The American managed a soft laugh that was natural. The Englishman felt his skin grow little goose pecks*****. "Good, I…I-I thought you wouldn't want to talk to me again."

Arthur's breaths stopped momentarily, his heart stilling before picking up rapid pace again. "Wh-whot are you talking about?"

"Well, I mean…" He could now see Alfred looked almost nervous, almost as if he didn't believe any of the events that were taking place at the moment. "I just figured that because I'm not what you fell in love with, that I'm not a demon anymore, you wouldn't want to deal with me and find someone else to love. And I thought that because the other angels believed you sinned so greatly, I almost thought that…they just dropped you off at a different time period and I wouldn't be able to get to you. Or…I thought you knew where I was but would be too afraid to see me."

Arthur's hands wavered to his chest and he clutched tautly at the space where his heart was located. The words hurt, but they were what Alfred felt and thought. He would always want to see Alfred, no matter what form. He was too far deep in the hole that he had dug himself, and although he could fly out at any given moment, he didn't want to get himself out. He loved the feel of Alfred's arms around him in any way, the way his voice would slightly deepen when he would whisper to him, the sparkle that his eyes, scarlet or sapphire, would have inside them. He was deeply in love with Alfred Jones, no matter who he was. If he stayed the same personality-wise and caused his heart to erratically beat, he would be perfectly content.

"I would always want to see you," the older male managed to croak out, and tried to swallow the lump that had lodged itself inside of his throat. "I don't care whot you look like or where we are or whot we do…as long as I'm with you, I'm fine. I'll always be fine in your arms."

This time, he could see, it was Alfred's turn to choke tears. "Y-you really mean that, don't you?"

The angel threw composure to the wind, let the water drip down his cheeks. "Anything I've said to you…that was ever positive…I've always meant."

He laughed, and there were now obvious tracks down his own face now. "I know you would say that. And I'm happy it's to me."

Arthur covered his mouth with his hand, not sure if he could take more than just talking. His hands were shaking from wanting to touch him for so long but not being able to. "A-Alfred…"

The American sniffed, rubbed his nose on his jacket, and started to run. The Briton forced his legs to move forward as well, and the two connected in a way that put any empty pieces into place, that showed all of their joy and happiness that the other was here with him and safe, that they could finally be together without anyone causing trouble. Their arms swooped around the other tautly and the Englishman would admit that he gave a cry when he was finally in the warm hug of his lover, but he had felt too desperate and too lonesome and he finally had his other half back with him again, he didn't care what happened as long as they were together again for good, and there was no force to break apart their intertwined hands and fingers.

Arthur's face was lifted up, and the two moved quickly and simultaneously to connect their lips and place their arms and hands and fingers over the one he loves so unconditionally and so amorously. The shorter dragged his fingers through the caramel locks of hair and let them run through, feeling the tresses go through his fingers with the texture of silk. Alfred had one hand supporting his back as they dipped down to the ground until Arthur could feel the soft blades of grass against his skin, and even then he groaned from that familiar contact that made his heartbeats repeat quicker than ever, and the dizzying spell of hands and lips and tongue that he was offered and swallowed up without a second thought. Alfred was pawing at him, as if he was a pup trying to get back inside the house, but it felt so wonderful and amazing to feel the hands he so adored trace over him so desperately, it was a wonder they were still composed. Arthur couldn't even believe he was thinking so straightforward when the rest of him was clouded with lust and desire and want and love and need—

He couldn't say when he felt it or how, because he didn't remember much before his lower half was suddenly releasing and causing him to become sticky and the smell began to swarm in the air. Without any stimulation besides the lips and kisses and touches that hadn't even gone near his lower half, he had reached his climax. And if the other's cry of surprise was one to go by, Alfred had done the same.

The duo didn't stop there, even though their mouths had gone apart for a brief moment to take in air. As soon as they were ready again, they dove back, limbs tangling with one another's and hands clawing at the other's hair or arm or back or body. They writhed under the touch, almost as if they couldn't get enough and it would all be over for one another. To them, this was a dream, a dream that they never wanted to end. They were desperate for touching and pawing and keening and moaning so that the other wouldn't forget if their suspicions were correct.

Neither could remember when they finally stopped and relaxed, but Arthur suspected it was around the time Alfred, upper arms and body trembling and sniffling, collapsed from exhaustion and sadness and clutched onto the Brit, stuffing his face into his shoulder to repress his cries. The Brit enveloped his arms around him and shushed him, running his hand through his hair and whispering inside his ear.

"It's alright, my Darling," he assured his lover, entwining their hands together. "Don't be sad anymore. I'm right here with you. We're both right here with each other. There's no need for tears."

"I'm not crying because I'm sad," he sniffled from beside him, and sat up to gaze at him, wiping his own tears away and smiling down at his lover. Arthur swore his heart skipped too many beats at the sight of him. "I'm crying because…I finally get to be with you."

As cheesy as the line sounded, it was perfect. In Arthur's eyes, everything about Alfred is and always will be perfect, no matter what he did or how he sounded or what being he was, human or demon. He would always love him unconditionally, and that was all that mattered.

* * *

><p>The duo spent the next few hours doing nothing but first walking to the Brit's Upside-down tree and then lying beside or on top of one another, chatting the light away the whole time, hands intertwined and bodies pressed close to one another as the air became a bit more chilly, and Alfred had offered his leather jacket, but Arthur refused to take it from him, no matter how much he was convinced. The American told his story, how he had been forced up to the Surface and thrown into the Thames River, how he had actually lost a percentage of his eyesight due to the Power Angels pressing his burning hands over his eyes and found himself somehow with glasses, how he looked for him nonstop for three days and had to go to restaurants and eat there, but not have the check come to him on time (luckily, he hadn't been caught once), how Francis and Matthew had found him and vowed to bring Arthur back to him. The whole tale made the angel lean up and press his mouth against his, unable to even imagine of what it must have been like for him.<p>

Arthur told his story next, how he had briefly forgotten about Alfred and everything they had done, how Yao, Matthew and their lovers had come to help him get back to him, and even gushing a bit of truth on how strange and nostalgic it felt to be back in his birthplace after so many years of not seeing it. Alfred had shivered at first at the mention of the amnesia, and promptly locked their lips together once Arthur explained his story, and they stayed like that for what seemed like forever, just lips and nothing else but their fingers intertwined and either touching the other's cheek or his arm. They didn't know how long they stayed like that, Alfred on his back and Arthur on top of him, both relaxed and content, but when they broke apart and gazed into the other's pair of amazing, breathtaking eyes, the air was chilly and it was dark out save for the lights that streamed in from the outside world. The two had gone under the Upside-down tree to sit and talk, and now they couldn't help but stare at him in such a way that it took away his breath.

The former Londoner, caressing his Darling Poppet's face, shivered slightly and brought his wings close to his body. Alfred frowned up at him. "Are you sure you don't want my jacket?" He asked in a quiet voice. "It's warmer than your wings."

"I'll be fine," Arthur chuckled with a light smile. To be honest, though, he didn't want to take away the jacket from the other. "I don't mind the cold, Luv."

The American propped himself up on one elbow and slid his jacket off of his arms, before he tossed it on top of Arthur's thinner body and placed his arms loosely around his waist, giving him more warmth than he needed. He gave the older a bright grin. "You can have it if you want."

"Alfred, I can't take your jacket!" Arthur slipped his arms through the sleeves and tugged it closer to his much smaller form, now less cold and more comfortable than he had ever been.

"Keep it for now. I already have my own on, I don't need this one right now."

The Briton frowned even more, but gentle fingers grazed his cheek slowly and caused him to gaze into the sapphire eyes.

"I could be blind and naked and starving right now, and even then I wouldn't need anything but you…because you're what keeps me alive."

The line couldn't help but bring a smile to his face at the comment that caused his heart to skip several beats. "Alfred…you're too lovely, my dear." The two pecked each other's lips gently and lovingly, with little noises and amorous touches. "Don't ever stop."

"Do what you want…you can never get me to."

Arthur gave a keen cry, shutting his eyes as a warm, calloused hand wavered down to his legs and started to rub him slowly, caressing it from all sides and beyond. He leaned forward to envelop his hands around his neck, breathing in his scent as he dove into the skin of his neck, nibbling and licking it. Alfred exhaled at the contact in serenity, but the Englishman could tell he was startled when another hand appeared from seemingly nowhere and grabbed him in the same place the angel was being treated.

"A-ah…y-you're r-really…g-g-good…" The American sighed and leaned his head back, allowing his neck to have more access for the Englishman to attack. "A-a-ah…pl-please don't stop, ahhh…"

The Brit hummed in thought, still uttering small moans and gasps at the two hands that now worked him. He groaned as his robe was lifted for more access to his arousal, and he unzipped and unbuttoned the other's trousers to better reach the member, still making love marks on the younger.

"T-talk about e-enthusiastic…" Alfred's breath hitched for a moment, but then turned into a laugh. "A-ahaha, I-I…I wanna see you."

Arthur sat up a bit to gaze into the oh-so-blue eyes that he had fallen in love with long ago. The younger let out a shaky breath, and placed a honeyed kiss on his lips. The Brit returned it, delving into the passion of the small yet strong peck that overpowered him and was the reason he once again reached his end with a moan. His lover mimicked him, crying out louder than he and falling back, as if in a daze. The two were still for a moment, listening to the other's breathing before the human spoke up with a chuckle. "Whot's so funny?" The angel asked him, raising a hand and having his fingers intertwine with the other male's.

The younger gave another gentle sound of amusement and leaned over so he could peck his lips sweetly. Arthur returned the contact despite being a bit confused about the whole ordeal. They broke away, the shorter of the two still looking puzzled, which received more laughs. "I'm just happy, Thornless Rose. I'm so happy we can finally be together without any problems."

The words were simple and short yet sweet, but they held all of the adoration in the world for one of the only persons who always accepted Alfred, no matter what he did. Arthur recognized his lover, at first, as a rather terrifying being, a monster, but then he looked past that and looked deep inside the American, and found something that he would have never imagined finding. And for that, he was grateful for ever finding somebody to love as sweet and caring as Alfred.

* * *

><p>"Alfred, can I ask you something?"<p>

The two had been in comforting silences, where they would gaze at the other and admire him, or they would talk about random and trivial things, stuff that was unimportant but had a meaning to them that was so strong. But now, as the two lay together, side by side, hand in hand, the Brit resting his head on his lover's shoulder, he figured he could now ask the questions he needed to hear.

Alfred smiled sweetly at him. "Of course you can," he answered, adjusting his head so that he could rest his head on the blond bush without touching the sensitive halo.

Arthur paused for a moment and nibbled on his lower lip, trying to word his first question so as not to make it sound so harsh. "…How is Matthew your brother if, until now, you two acted as if you have never seen each other before?"

The American was silent, the only sound in the now night sky the little night bugs that sang their tune. The Briton regretted mentioning the fact to him, but it had been bothering him ever since he had seen his past. He knew that it would be painful to mention, and yet he found himself wondering just how it was that his quiet, shy Canadian friend and his boisterous, affectionate American darling were brothers. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to, Luv. I don't mind."

The younger chuckled, the sound almost painful, before he let out a sad sigh. "When I first brought you down to Hell, I saw my brother and Francis coming back down with the rest of us. When Francis was still an angel, he had fallen in love with my brother from afar, and when he fell down from Heaven and became a demon, he wanted to find Mattie and make him his. I went over to them, to congratulate Francis and see my brother again, but…Matthew didn't recognize me. He…he looked at me as if I had lost my mind." He gazed down at the Englishman with sadness quivering in his blue eyes. "Do you know what it feels like to look at your brother, the only family that accepted you, and say that he didn't know who you were?"

Arthur was silent, not wanting to make a single noise. He felt it too inappropriate, and he refused to make it worse for his Darling.

"I tried everything I knew that only we would know to try and convince him that I was his only brother, only if we were half. I tried everything I could and even then, he still denied knowing me. It hurt, you know…to look at him and have him not even know who I was. I was so close to giving up, so close to just saying that…this wasn't my brother. But Francis had told me, when you first met him, that he had knocked his head against a block of marble and lost some blood. He was okay once Francis was able to get him in the river and heal him, but he said that Mattie might have lost some memories because of the hit."

"I'm so sorry." The angel sat up halfway so that he could face his lover, and planted his lips firmly on his. "That doesn't sound too pleasant at all, Dearest."

"And when I got the telegram about his death…" He shook his head, closing his eyes firmly, but a few tears escaped from his eyes nonetheless. "I wanted to die with him. He was older than me by three days, yeah, but I was supposed to go first. A person like Matthew didn't deserve to die that die."

"If it weren't for Maggie, you wouldn't have been able to move on."

Alfred laughed quietly, and ran a hand along his lover's face gently. "No, Arthur…if it weren't for you and your story, I wouldn't have been able to move on. Your sister only helped."

The Brit's eyebrows furrowed, and the fingers that ran over his cheek now traced right above his eyes. "Whot do you mean?"

"I mean what I said- without you, Arthur, without the fact that you dreamed about fairies and unicorns and dreamed your own world and you weren't able to write your stories like you wanted, without Maggie collecting your doodles and making them into a book and creating your dreams into reality, I don't think I would have been able to continue." Alfred removed his hand from his face, and opted for entwining their fingers. "Ever since I heard that story during World War Two, I've wanted to meet you. I wanted to find you and thank you for inspiring me, for dreaming what you wanted and not letting anyone judge you. Before I met you, I searched for years, trying to find you on the Surface. And when I gave up and decided to go to Heaven to see if you were there, well…I finally found my inspiration, who turned into my match, one of the only individuals who sees me for me, and will never stop seeing me."

Arthur shivered. He remembered clearly just how much he had wanted to write. As soon as his schoolwork was done, he would pull out a blank sheet of paper and write and write and write until his hands ached and he was out of ideas for the day. His own world was full of mystical creatures, some he created and some that everyone knew so much about- even some that were different species of fairies or pixies or unicorns. He still had his ideas, each and every one of them, and he still had the urge to write them down on something, just so that he could have his dream become his own reality, to become _his_. "Dreamt."

Alfred, who had been diligently and mercilessly placing small, gentle kisses on his Thornless Rose's arms and fingers, stopped with misperception and bewilderment expressed on his face. "Huh?"

The Briton laughed and brought his dearest's hands to his own lips. "It's 'dreamt', not 'dreamed', Poppet."

The American blinked, looking more confused than ever, but then his face erupted in a teasing smile. "I think I learned the right English when I was a kid."

"You mean you _learnt_ the wrong English."

Alfred flicked his nose with a laugh. "American English is correct, Beautiful!"

Arthur returned the action. "I don't mean to disappoint you, Dearest, but English from England is correct."

"No way! You guys are totally backwards! You don't measure in Fahrenheit, either!"

"Celsius is used by everyone else! And I wouldn't be talking, with your messed-up metric system!"

"My metric system is awesome! At least I know the difference between football and soccer!"

"If I can recall correctly, _your _country is the only one in the entire world that even _calls_ football 'soccer'! Where did you even get the word 'soccer' from?"

"Well…at least my country can cook!"

"You call shit delicious?"

"You call charcoal edible?"

Arthur, still with a wide grin on his face, sat up and pinned his lover down before the younger could do so. "My nation's cooking is much better than yours will ever be!"

"No way, mine's is definitely better than yours!"

"Is not!"

"Is to!"

"Is not!"

"Is _to!_ I'm right because I wear the pants!"

Arthur, in disbelief and shock (while trying not to laugh at the same time), hit his lover's arm. "You take that back!"

"Arthur doesn't wear pants! Arthur-" The American was silenced with loud, relentless giggles that replaced their amusing argument. "Do-on't, thaaaa-!"

"I'll stop when you take it back!"

"I can't-"

"Whot was that, luv?"

Alfred screamed with laughter, body writhing as he tried to lift the Brit off of him gently. "Oh my God, plee-ee-ease!"

"Please, whot?"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I take it ba-aa-ack! Ahh! Arthurrr!"

The angel, with his own laughter, finally ceased his fingers teasing and tickling his lover, and leaned down to peck a kiss to his lips sweetly. "There we are."

Alfred's breaths evened out now, hands tracing patterns on Arthur's hips. "Someone got feisty when I was gone, my Pretty Angel."

The Briton smiled with a hum, brushing back one of the American's stray caramel locks. "Personally, I think the tonic that Lukas gave me that made my appearance a demon was whot helped."

"You looked really hot as a demon." The younger dragged circles into his side using his pointer finger, before smiling gently. "Do you still want to become one?"

"Is that even a question, Luv?" Arthur chuckled in disbelief. "Honestly, it's quite obvious that I do not want to look like _this_ for the rest of my existence. It makes me feel like I can be taken away from you at any given moment."

He shrugged. "True," a grin that took away Arthur's breath once again appeared, "but you know I prefer you in whatever you want to look like."

Arthur felt a light blush rise to his cheeks, and he smiled. "Thank you."

Alfred giggled like a young child, and folded their fingers into one another. "As soon as we find out how to get me back to a demon, I'll change you. And then…" _peck,_ "we can be eternally happy."

"Yes." Arthur leaned over him so that their lips hovered above one another and they shared breaths. "Eternally happy." He leaned down carefully, placing their lips together and sighing, humming in contentment. One of Alfred's hands stroked up and down his back, mimicking his sounds, the older blonde becoming dizzier from the contact and love and kiss and rustle-

"Oh! Ah, we did not, um, I mean, ah…_g-gomen'nasai_, I did not, eh…"

"Aiyaaaa. You two like to get around aru."

Arthur sat up hastily, cheeks burning as he looked at where the leaves of the tree had been separated, giving both Yao and Kiku a view of the two. The latter Son of the Dark was blushing heavily and wringing his hands back and forth, making the atmosphere filled with awkward tension. The former demon, however, only chuckled and lightly smiled.

"Arthur, you need to hold in urges aru."

The Briton blushed as he carefully edged himself off of Alfred, who sat up and started to go off asking questions hastily. "Did you find a way to get me back to a demon? Does my brother still remember me? How much longer will it be 'til-"

"Aiyaa! One question at a time aru! Be patient!"

The American pouted, causing Arthur to chuckle at how childish yet cute he could be sometimes, but they nevertheless both listened.

"Your brother remembers you, _shì_. But the only way we found to change you back is through death to an angel, and then bitten aru. If we were to try it in your human form, right now, the results are…catastrophic."

Kiku nodded with a soft "_Hai_. It can go from comprete memory ross, to ross of brood, to, eh…werr, to conversion to anger rike Arzur, but it wirr arert ze Powers Ranks…"

"The possibilities," the Chinese demon gulped, looking nervous and depressed at the same time, "are endless aru."

The Englishman grimaced and shivered, rubbing his lower arms and looking off to the side. It almost seemed as if there was always something preventing their happiness. All they wanted was to be able to hold each other's hands without anything bothering them. He didn't know he had been silently crying- at least _close_ to it but not in the act- until a warm hand lifted his chin up and brushed them away with a smile.

"We'll try it," Alfred mumbled gently, sapphire eyes not breaking away from the emerald of his lover.

"A-are you sure?" The scarlet eyes of the Mandarin-speaking demon looked anxious at the very thought, as if he didn't want to risk anything. Arthur knew his close friend was most likely wondering about him.

The former Air Force pilot looked up at the slightly taller demon. "If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't be asking."

Yao looked as if he was going to say something, but then decided against it. "Francis and Matthew will be here soon aru. You can reunite with your brother, and at sunrise we will do conversion."

Alfred nodded. "I'll be ready by then."

The two Asian demons nodded simultaneously, and closed the curtain that they had formed from the Upside-down tree. As soon as they were gone, Arthur leaned in close to his lover's ear. "Alfred…please, please tell me everything will be alright." The Briton himself was shaking; his hands trembled, his mind boggled, ears ringing, heart thumping. He knew that if he were to suffer from more heartbreak again, he didn't think he would be able to handle it this time around.

"I don't know what will happen," the American admitted in a less than steady voice, and pecked his angel's forehead. "All I know is that I want to be with my Beautiful, Thornless Rose for eternity."

Arthur, despite the whirlwind of emotions going on inside of him, laughed. "You're quite a romantic, aren't you?"

"Forever and only for you, my Arthur." He raised the pale hands to his lips and kissed each one. "Come on, my Precious Angel. Let's go dance in the moonlight without a care in the world."

This was why he loved Alfred. Whenever he was with him, no matter what kind of problem they may be in, the American always made him feel like although they were going through a hard time, as long as they had each other, they would be alright. It was that kind of optimism that Arthur adored, that made his heart beat ten times more than its normal rate. It was that kind of determination that helped him think positive, that assisted him in thinking that they could do anything with their hands intertwined. Arthur was grateful that he was able to fall in love with someone who was so kind and so sweet and so handsome and so beautiful and was so wonderful in his way- in his silly, humorous, fantastic, Alfred way.

Yes. Arthur was certainly in love with only one man. They would go through Hell and back (literally), they would have their hearts ripped apart, they would be tortured and beaten until they could no longer see anything but blood and bruises and pain, and even then, in their darkest moments, would they reach forward and find that warm pair of fingers that chased the negative away and made room for them. Because as long as their hands were folded, and they were together, they were invincible.


	35. Transformation

**Gahhhhh, I've been waiting for this for, like, ever now! I mean honestly!**

**Okay, because I just wanna get this over with, one: Italia VS Espana for the UEFA Eurocup. Awww snap! It would've been Germany VS Spain, but Germany hasn't broken the curse of Italy always beating them when they verse each other, so it looks like Feli's topping Luddie for a while, and Lovi will help beat Toni XD I have strange headcanons. But I has no shame~!**

**Two, I got really sad before because I realized that this story was ending in a bit D: I wrote down an explanation to someone who stopped reading and wanted to know the rest, and I realized- there aren't many chapters left! I might just make it to forty or more. It's crazy! XD**

**Three, I own nothing here but the plot. Also, at the end, Arthur's hair changes to red but he can't see it because it's on his head. Oh wait, that was a spoiler, god dammit!**

**Eh, oh wells. You were going to read it anyways. So, for now and always:**

**Enjoy~!**

**Oh, and by the way, I'm not sorry for the sneaky NiChu and Franada that I gave you ;3 XD**

* * *

><p>Chapter 35:<p>

Transformation

"How are we going to be able to change Alfred?" Arthur asked Yao quietly so as not to bring attention to their conversation. The four were standing in front of the Upside-down tree, waiting for Francis and Matthew to arrive. They hadn't been waiting for very long, It being only about a half hour until sunrise, and they were busying themselves with conversation, Alfred and Kiku chatting while their lovers talked. Every once in a while, the human would look over at him, meet his eyes, and beam wide with a laugh, and the Briton would smile back and chuckle at him. But truth be told, the angel was worried about what would happen to them.

"Humans can be changed into demons if they have blood relative aru," Yao began to explain. The Chinese demon had had a serious aura around him, almost as if he was sullen, but Arthur didn't miss the sneaky hand squeezes that Kiku would give to him, giving his lover a boost and making him a bit cheerful again. "Any demon can change a human, but it difficult to get them back to way they were before the change. We can only hope that when Matthew will have to bite him, he won't be harmed aru."

"But…Alfred and Matthew are only half-brothers. Wh-whot does that mean for them?" He didn't want his lover, his Dearest, to lose anything again. They had already been separated enough times for him to be on the verge of breaking, and he absolutely detested the fact of having to go through that again. "W-will he lose part of his memory? Will he lose…a-all of it? Will h-he…" He had to swallow the lump in his throat before continuing. "W-will he die?"

"Don't think like that." The claret-haired demon grasped his close friend's hands and clasped them tautly. "Alfred will be fine aru. He'll have you there with him."

"That doesn't mean I can't worry about him." The former Londoner glanced at his lover, watching him talking animatedly about something foolishly Alfred. "It hurts me to know that I can't stop certain things from happening to him."

Yao tilted his face so that their eyes met, and Arthur found himself staring into the exact same emotions (benevolence, reassurance, kindheartedness) that he had seen when the two of them were still residing in Heaven what seemed to be a long time ago. "You and Alfred will not suffer anymore. I'll make sure of it. To see you like that…" The Chinese Son of the Dark bit his lower lip, as he always did when he was thinking or worried about something. "It hurts me almost more than my own death."

Arthur hastily pulled the demon into a hug as the emotions pulled at his heart and threatened to drop tears from his eyes. The fact that his lover and his best friend were risking a whole lot, so much that it could end their existence, was fervently destroying him. He didn't know what he would do without either of them by his side or at least being existing, even if they weren't in his general area. His voice was choked and unable to get any words out.

"Angel? A-are you alright?"

Alfred's worried voice broke the silence, and the Brit sniffed before chuckling. "Quite," he replied, and pulled back from the embrace, gazing at his American lover in admiration. The blue eyes that he loved so much seemed to be looking at his soul, as if it could read every last detail of him. "No need to fret, Dearest."

The human, having stood nearby him, raised a hand so that it could cup the side of his face and caress it as he leaned in and placed a small yet loving kiss upon his lips. "I don't want you to be hurting."

Arthur positioned his own hand over the one that was tenderly touching his cheek. "I'm just glad I have a caring lover and friend to worry over me."

Alfred gently pulled the angel closer with a smile, and placed one hand on the older male's hip and the other held out, as if he was waiting for something. "I would like to dance with you now."

The shorter chuckled softly, and let one hand fall on his shoulder and the other in the awaiting palm. "I would love to as well."

When the duo started to move to their own music, they were in perfect rhythm, and slow and gentle with each other, almost as if he was made of glass and would break at any second. Their eyes- sapphire to emerald- were connected with each other only, and didn't waver for one second. Their movements were careful and flowed perfectly, almost like there was actual music playing instead of the occasional wind or the chirping of animals, or the whispers of foreign languages from Kiku and Yao. As of right now, there was nothing else happening; they were together and lovely and perfect and alone. Their world was revolving around them, and their hearts beat for the other and for the other only.

The two were dancing, as it had been requested, in the moonlight without a care in the world. His lover in front of him, his heart, his dear, his precious, was illuminated by the light cast from the sky despite the fact that dawn was gradually and steadily approaching. His face was accentuated in a way that made him more handsome than he had ever seen. He felt as if he was seeing him for the first time and was surprised to see such a beautiful being in front of him. The angel with the eyes and the demon-turned-human with the words were so incredibly important to him, that if his heart were a balloon, it would have burst as soon as the amazing and kind and loving sight was presented and given to him and filled him. What started out as a worrisome and denying angel who wanted to return back to heaven and a lonely and wishing demon that was obsessed with his "servant" turned into something that they both needed, that they both thirsted for, and they were grateful that things happened the way they were to lead up to this one moment.

"I'm going to miss looking at your eyes," Alfred whispered to him, pressing a kiss against his cheek. "So beautiful, my Angel…"

"I'm sure you will, Luv…," Arthur answered back at the same volume, giving him a taut squeeze of their intertwined hands.

The younger smiled wide, eyes full of sincerity. "But I'd rather miss your eyes than miss your presence, my Thornless Rose."

The shorter male's cheeks blazed slightly, and he stood up on tiptoes to connect their awaiting lips. "As would I, my Dearest."

"Promise me that we'll stay together forever." The Brit would have answered him, if it weren't for the next words. "Because I don't know what would happen if you ever fell out of love with me."

Arthur swallowed the emotions that nearly made him tackle the other male into a hug, and instead opted for wrapping his arms tautly around him. "Once I start doing something, it's very hard to get me out. There is no way I will ever stop loving you, Alfred Jones."

The sound of a smile reached his lips, and the taller enveloped him tightly in his arms. "And I will never stop loving you, Arthur Kirkland."

Emerald eyes hid themselves in contentment. "Thank you, my Precious."

"No matter how suggestive that first sentence sounded."

The Briton scoffed, still smiling, and slapped his lover's backside to the sound of gentle chuckling. "Oh hush."

The sound of frantically beating wings reached their ears, and the duo glanced up above them to see Matthew and Francis land. Almost immediately, the American's eyes lit up in glee. "Mattie! You're back!" He exclaimed in a tone that made him sound younger than he really was, and he rushed over to his brother before pouncing on top of him and hugging him tightly. The Canadian jumped in shock at how fast his brother had gotten to him, but returned the embrace nonetheless.

"You saw me a while ago, Alfred," he smiled wide, patting his younger brother's back. "It's not like you haven't seen me in a while, eh?"

"I still haven't gotten used to seeing you, dude, gimme a break!" The younger of the two brothers straightened up and gazed at his brother happily, like a puppy excited and full of energy and ready to play.

Francis from beside Matthew scoffed and crossed his arms with a roll of his eyes. "Your _frère_ only wants you to change 'im back quickly, _amour,_" he smirked. "Eizer zat or 'e loves to embarrass 'imself."

"Hey, Kiku and Yao don't mind if I do something stupid! Right guys?" He turned to the two Asian demons to receive their answer, but received nothing but a view of a chaste kissing scene, with a few (too) audible moans from the lip-locked duo. The Frenchman laughed with an "Ohohohohohon~" as Alfred turned back with a blush, bitten lip from stifled laughter, and a reply of "I-I'll just ask them later."

"You two seem razer intimate and desperate for each ozer, don't you agree?"

Arthur, having watched his lover and his brother before, couldn't help but chuckle as both Kiku and Yao broke away from each other with bright faces and downcast heads. "You two like to get around, don't you?" He teased the duo. "Yao, you need to hold in your urges."

"Mind your business aru," the Chinese demon pouted, cheeks growing even brighter. "Th-there was something there, a-and I got it for him."

"Zat's called a tongue, dear Yao," Francis snorted. "And it almost looked like you two were cleaning."

Almost instantly, Kiku shook his head. "N-no, we were simpry, eh…w-we were just kissing, honest!" He managed to get out.

"That was _totally_ more than a kiss, dude," Alfred taunted with an eye roll and smile. "That was making out when you're about to tear off each other's clothes and start to make love with each other."

"A-Arfred!" "Aiyaa! That was so lewd aru!"

The American teen laughed at their reactions, but quieted down slowly with a sad look in his eyes as his attention wavered over to the sky. The blue was letting up slowly and a few more colors were spreading across the sky like fingers stretching. Alfred, almost instantly, reached behind him and clamped his hand back and forth, as if he was looking for something that wasn't there. Arthur took pity on him, and interlocked their fingers together. "It'll be alright, Luv," the older male whispered to him, petting his hand softly. "I'll be right here beside you."

"It's going to hurt," he mumbled lowly and sadly. "I don't want you to see me go through anything like that again. You already saw the trial, and…w-when Satan reversed me back into a human. I-I don't think-"

"Alfred." The older yet shorter brushed back a strand of the caramel locks. "Just think of me. Just look at me and think of me and only me. Don't fret over the pain, because it will only worry you even more. But if you have me to look at and me to worry about you, you'll be fine. Because I'll be right here beside you. And that's all you need to worry about."

Alfred smiled, and nodded. "O-okay." He laughed lightly, and leaned in to give him a sweet-tasting kiss. "That's all I need to worry about."

"That's right, Poppet. Just me, right here." Out of the corner of his eye, right over his lover's shoulder, he could see Francis whisper something to Matthew before the latter nodded hesitantly, and the former gently grasped each of his cheeks and placed a lengthy kiss on his mouth. "Nothing else should worry you right now." He affectionately smiled and stepped closer to Alfred so he could lovingly nuzzle the side of his face. "Am I right, Dearest Poppet?"

Alfred chuckled gently. "Of course." The kissing couple behind him finally broke apart, and the Canadian smiled once more at his own lover before turning toward his brother and Arthur. "Because you're the only one tha…a-ah…"

Matthew, as gently as he could, had placed his hands on his sibling's shoulder, leaned forward, and set his teeth into his neck. The American whimpered quietly, nearly inaudibly, and his legs and hands trembled, but he forced out a shaky laugh.

"Hahaha, I-I'll be fine, i-it just tickles a little, haha." He sucked in air and closed one eye, bowing his head slightly with a wince. "Don't w-wanna forget these eyes, hah?"

The Londoner let out a laugh of his own. "Although I haven't seen them for such a long time, your eyes are the most marvelous thing that I've ever had the pleasure to admire." He gave their intertwined hands a tight squeeze. "But us being together without any issues…it's far more important."

"Heh," The American, with both eyes opened, took both of the angel's hands and pressed a kiss against his forehead before smiling wide, "th-that's rih…" He was at a loss for words as more changes overcame him, and the younger's skin slowly started to fade to a darkly pale as his clothing darkened, the fleece on the collar of his jacket turning a whitish-grey. His beautiful caramel locks dimmed until there was nothing left but black, down to the very last root and the cowlick that refused to listen to gravity. Alfred's mouth opened in an "O" and a small cry slipped out as two large, bat-like wings jutted out from his back and stretched, nearly hitting the demon behind him. From his head, nestled into his black locks, two grey horns, spiraled with black, poked out painfully, if the louder exclaim and arching back was anything to go by, at the same time a long tail with a pointed end slithered out and pressed against the body it belonged to. But lastly, while still connected to the emeralds, the irises that were sapphires soon faded into irises that were like rubies, and that was when Matthew pulled away and Alfred practically collapsed against his lover, panting. "Wh-whoa…"

"It's alright," Arthur whispered to him, rubbing his back. The human-now-demon shuddered, wings and limbs and tails shuddering from what was most likely exhaustion. The Brit kissed beside his ear, and raised his fingers to his lips so he could peck the top of his hand. "You did marvelous, Luv."

"Th-thanks;" he managed to exhale out, "I'm just glad it's over with, right?"

"As am I, Dearest." _Peck._ "As am I."

Alfred, trying to regain his breathing, smiled wide, his fangs just poking out from underneath his lip. His lovely demon was just as lovely and handsome and beautiful as he had been the last time the English angel had seen him like this. The American's hands, a bit cautiously, wavered up to cup the Englishman's face. "But…are _you_ ready to be changed, Beautiful?"

Arthur was worried. He would do anything to make them happy eternally. He would do anything to make sure anyone who opposed them would stay away from them. He would do anything to let them bask in nothing but relief and each other's love. But he couldn't deny the fact that his nerves were rattled and his stomach was in knots and his worries were many. Although he knew that Alfred would do anything, no matter what it may be, to keep him comfortable. "A-a bit frightened, to say the least, but, um…I-I trust you." He managed to give a shy smile. "I know I'll be fine, though, as long…as long as I have you to be with me."

The American demon was gentle when his tongue slid over his lover's throat and his teeth sunk in gently. The Briton gasped audibly, and wrapped his hands into the other's jacket. At first, just like the other times he had been bitten, the blood in his body focused on exiting from that one spot, but tthis time, it flowed back into him. Alfred reached up slowly to take a hold of his halo and yank it down, where it broke out of the force keeping it floating and ripped a trembling inhale from the angel. He could feel each and every one of the feathers of his majestic and delicate wings start to fall off on their own, one by one, to the ground, the tips edged with blood. Arthur couldn't see much, mind dizzy and disoriented but he not giving a care in the world. He was halfway there, halfway there to the step that would lead them to loving each other eternity, if the change in new attire was anything to go by. The fabric that clung to him now smoothed over his legs and arms and body, and the shoes just reached his knees. Where his halo had once been, two sharp and uncomfortable objects grew and poked out on either side of his head upwards, staying there permanently. Whatever remained of his feathered wings was gone now, and replaced with leather and a heavier pair of what was also most likely a pair of bat wings. From his behind, a tail that could jab at anything and pierce it also probed its way out and managed to stretch, before relaxing. What felt like cold water washed over his eyes, even whilst still staring at his lover, but the rush burned and he gave another loud cry before everything slowed down and his feet gave way to keeping his weight up. His eyes were extremely blurry and whatever he heard sounded as if he was listening underwater. Only one thing, one beautiful and precious and lovely and handsome and dearest demon, could he both hear and see and feel, even though it was vaguely.

"It's alright, I got you, Flawless Beauty," Alfred and only Alfred said, as a soothing pair of hands smoothed over his hair, dodging the protruding horns that were now there. "Wow…you're so beautiful, Gorgeous… You can be any species and you'll still receive my love. I'm so…"

His voice broke off into laughter, and Arthur couldn't help but smile as well and slowly drift off to the sound and the smile. As long as he had Alfred with him, he would always be fine.


	36. Preparation

**Not too crazy about this chapter :/ It's honestly just a filler, and took me much longer than I wanted to be for some reason. But the last part is awesome! :D But I'm going to be bringing it more into a close soon.**

**How many chapters are left exactly?**

**Two more, three if you count the epilogue.**

**...**

**Damn. Excuse me, gonna go sit in that loner corner over there X'D**

**You know Hidekaz Himaruya owns all characters. I own the plot. For now, the best you can:**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Chapter 36:<p>

Preparation

"_I'm not going to say again, I don't want him going out there by himself!"_

"_Alfred, I understand your concern. But ve've already lost too many. Ve must use vhat ve have if ve vant to defeat Satan."_

"_I don't care, I just got him back and I'm not about to lose him again!"_

"_Arzur will be around _moi et Mathieu_, Alfred. It's not like we're sending 'im off east, where 'e can easily be killed."_

"_You're right, I'm __not__ sending him off east, I'm sending him to my bedroom where he can at least be safe until this all settles down!"_

"_And what will you do if zis takes years? You cannot repress his freedoms. Zat wouldn't be fair to 'im, would it?"_

"…"

"_Well Alfred?"_

"…_I just…I love Arthur a whole lot. I don't… I-I'm afraid something will happen to him… And…I don't want anything bad to happen to him."_

"_I understand zat well. All of us 'ere do. We 'ave our own lovers to fret over, Alfred. But we bring zem wiz us so zat we can be wiz zem. And if one were to die on ze battlefield, ze other would follow. You just need to trust 'im."_

Arthur opened his eyes a few minutes later, when the noise from the other room had dwindled down to a mere whisper. In the corner of the room was a small pit of fire that allowed streaks of light spread in the nearly-spare space. He sat up from the bed he had been in, looking around the area he had been left at. His body felt stranger than usual; when he was an angel, it was a bit hard to get used to. The halo was almost an extended part of you; your wings were light and gentle and although it was strange to support it, he became used to it in seemingly no time at all. But now, there was a heavy weight on his back and sharp intrusions on his head, as well as something swooping back and forth just above his bottom. His body wasn't "free", in the way that he had been in his white robe. Instead, as of right now, his clothing was much different. A black jacket on top of a red shirt and black tie, with matching black slacks and military boots that went under his knee: oh yes, that was _extremely_ different.

Of course. He had been changed to a demon by his lover. Alfred…one of the most amazing beings he had ever met. He was a dream come true, what every girl wanted to hold and comfort and lover her. Too bad the American wasn't for that team and already owned the heart of a British gentleman. Arthur smiled at the thought; Alfred would always be his and no one else's dear Poppet. If he wasn't, then he and Alfred would have never agreed to changing him into a demon. They wanted peace, a peace that others seemed to be taking a rather long time at allowing. But they would get there, and hopefully soon, too.

After waiting a while, the Briton got up to walk to the next room and see if there was any more of a commotion. On his way, he glanced into a mirror and smirked: scarlet hair in the same style as his blond, pale skin that was slightly lighter than his last appearance; black horns that were pointed and protruding upwards, and blood-red eyes that were a symbol that he had a lover. Alfred was probably convinced he looked perfect. And he looked the exact part of his American lover.

He walked past the mirror, after a few more examinations, and wasn't too surprised to see several familiar demons around a table, he in the library and off in a room to the side. Alfred sat at the head of the table, Ludwig and Kiku on either side of him and most likely the commanders just one step below him. The American was currently facing the other way, swiveling back and forth in his chair, one elbow resting on the armrest. Luckily, no one had noticed the new arrival yet, and so he quietly kept to the side and listened to the talk.

"Alfred, you've been away for a vhile, you haven't been able to take proper responsibilities because of za trial about a veek ago, _und_ you've missed too much to appear suddenly viz a new demon and expect he vill be safe," Ludwig clarified, his stern face looking threatening from the flicker of the flames that was emitted from the lanterns attached to the wall. "You can't expect anyvun in zis var to not vant to-"

"One," Alfred stopped him, holding out his index finger and looking as if he was trying to quiet him. "This is not a war. It is a rebellion. Two…I don't care if he's an angel or demon or human…I am not letting my Arthur out and on the battlefield as long as I am here."

"Alfred, you being too unreasonable aru," Yao pouted, arms crossed on the table and chin resting on top. "You need to let Arthur choose when he wake up."

The American groaned and dragged his fingers through his short, neat black hair. "I don't know… I can't control his decisions, but I don't want to know what happens if I let him go out there and he gets hurt."

"If he want to go, you have to let him. You can only defend a person so much aru. If you do it too much, then nothing happen to them."

"Maybe we can come up with something so that you can go with him," Matthew suggested, the chair next to him available but his bottom seated in Francis' lap. "That would be okay for you, right?"

"Yeah, but…" Alfred rubbed his fingers and kneaded his palms into his eyes. "I just want him to be safe."

Arthur found this as his cue to chuckle and gather the others' attention. "You're much too sweet for me, Luv," he smirked. "You're a bit overprotective of me, but it's persistent and charming all the same."

The head demon leapt from his seat in surprise with shock clearly shown on his face. "Beautiful!" He spread his wings out and glided over the long table, landing in front of his lover and placing his hands on his hips. "Are you okay? How do you feel, Lovely?"

"I'm quite alright, Alfred." He reached up and pushed back a strand of his hair, placing it behind his ear. "There's no need to fret. I just want to know why I have to wake up to a persistent lover who doesn't want me doing anything risky."

Alfred blushed slightly at the line, but managed to give him a small smile in return and pressed a sweet kiss onto his lover's lips. "The war has gotten bloodier than it originally was."

Arthur looked past his embracing lover to gaze at the other demons. All their faces seemed stressed and exhausted, even those who were recently changed. He could now make out certain details of the group, like how Yao seemed less cheerful and almost dull, how Feliciano- with one of his hands wrapped in white cloth- was staring critically at the table and kicking his legs back and forth, how the room smelt of blood and dirt and a heavy, foreign stench that made him recoil. "Whot's been happening?"

"Ve're losing recruits each day," Gilbert, the other German, replied, leaning back in his chair. "Satan has too many men to back him up, _und_ it's overvhelming us."

"We've been training ozers to fight 'im but 'e just seems to get stronger each day," Francis commented. "Our side is too close to falling and not ever getting up."

"Don't say that," Alfred frowned, pulling on the Briton's hips, as if to hide him against his body. "We can beat him. We just have to keep on trying."

"Alfred, tell me one willing soul who would zink about going wiz you. Because I'm sure I speak for many wen I say zat zere aren't many who will."

The American looked away frowning, his fingers rubbing circles into Arthur's sides. The former Londoner started to speak to say that he would always be by Alfred's side no matter what, but Matthew beat him to it.

"I'm always going to fight with you," the Canadian reminded his brother, and managed a weak smile. "Besides, I don't think we ever properly got to, right?" Francis grimaced from behind his younger lover, but didn't protest further.

"Thanks, Matt," Alfred managed to lift his mouth upwards in a smile.

"You only have one other person wanting to help you," Lovino, Feliciano's brother, pointed out. "No one else feels like risking their lives for something that already is a losing battle."

Arthur honestly felt heavy inside. He wanted to help Alfred in some way. He couldn't just let him be treated like that and brought down! It almost seemed as if his American lover was going to be fighting the Devil alone, and although he felt a bit sluggish from sleep, he would do anything for his Dearest Poppet- even if that meant he would be risking his life. Maybe that was what he had to do now: make it clear that no matter what, he would faithfully be by his side.

"I will."

Almost immediately, again, everyone focused on Arthur, and he stared them down again. He was expecting this, and he was ready.

"I can't speak for all of you when I say I will fight with him no matter whot…but I love him dearly, and I'll risk everything for him, no matter whot the circumstances may be." He wound his fingers with Alfred and gave them a squeeze while he looked into the scarlet eyes that held so much love for him. "I'd do anything for him."

Alfred laughed and nuzzled the Brit's face, receiving a warm smile from his lover. "Thank you, Lovely~!"

Arthur chuckled at the tickle of the silky black locks against his cheeks, and rubbed the side of his American's face.

"You can't just send 'im to ze fighting, you know," Francis interjected. "'e will need to get used to 'is new form."

"I can train him aru," Yao piped up, sitting up and yawning, his wings flapping out once. "It can't be too hard for him. He already was demon before; it should be easy."

"I want to help!" Feliciano cried out, jumping from his seat with his usual boisterousness. "I can run really fast and I'm cute! Maybe I can help him too~!"

"And zen zere's his animal form," Gilbert mumbled, before raising his head to make contact with Arthur. "I don't know vhat the national animal of England is, but you're going to need some practice viz zat."

"Vait, vait, hold on a second," Ludwig interjected, rubbing his eyes, as if aggravated, with one hand. "If ve are to now include Arzur in za fight, how are ve going to do zis? Ve need a plan."

"Ooh! Ooh! Pick me!" Alfred raised his hand eagerly, as if in school, pulling the Englishman along with him to the swivel chair he had been in before and plopping down, pulling Arthur down with him. "I got the perfect idea!"

* * *

><p>When the group had their plan organized and everyone had their part to play, Arthur was brought to an arena, and then one of its large rooms that was scattered with various materials. There were weapons that were in proper cases, large rocks had been placed in random patterns around the perimeter of the room, there were open spaces for most likely miscellaneous purposes, the walls were marked with scratches, the ceiling had its own obstacle course for flying- he knew he would be in this room for quite a while.<p>

"You remember how to fly aru?" Yao asked, floating a foot above the ground and his back to the floor.

"They feel a bit heavier the last time I tried," Arthur responded, flexing his bat-like appendages to get used to the feel. "It shouldn't be too hard, though."

The Chinese demon gestured toward the open space in front of them. "Try it. Let's see how you do aru."

Arthur rolled his shoulders and stretched his wings out on either side of him, flapping them in uneven patterns to get slightly used to the feeling of using such a large weight. One foot slid back, his legs bended, his upper body leant forward, and he took off. He ran down the pathway, legs moving quickly, spread his wings out on either side of him, and rose into the air-

-before he connected with the floor of the room face-first.

Yao's loud laughs were probably heard from the whole building they were in, a small thump heard that told his friend had most likely fallen to the ground in his current state. Arthur, the front of his body aching from his fall, stomped out of the room to clean himself up with a scowl and brightly-flushed face.

When the British demon returned, still a bit annoyed, he was met with a tackle-hug and a loud "_Ciao_ Arthur~! It'sa so good to see you again~!" from whom he could only and always recognize as Feliciano.

Yao was grinning madly still, but its amusement decreased slightly when the Englishman glared over at him. "Feliciano is faster than most of us," he started to explain. "He help you with taking off."

"Vee~ this will be fun, right~?" The Italian grinned, jumping in place.

"Sure," Arthur grumbled, giving his friend another irritated look. Yao only giggled as a response.

Feliciano was a good instructor for him, first showing him and then giving another demonstration with instructions. He took it slow with Arthur at first, letting him get used to the weight of the leather-like appendages before they practiced flying, diving and landing at separate times, moving to the next as soon as the Brit mastered the one before that. And Feli didn't laugh hysterically like Yao did, who was watching the show and had waited until his friend was able to fly through the obstacle course without any difficulties. The Mandarin-speaking demon flew up after him, going to one side with Feli on the other. When Arthur looked beside him, he couldn't hold back and gave a groan.

"Please don't mess me up, I've been doing excellent right now." And it wasn't a lie; he hadn't messed up after he had gotten the hang of using his new wings, and he refused to let anyone or anything ruin that.

"I won't do anything to you aru," Yao rolled his eyes, laughing lightly. "I just want to talk."

"About whot?" He dove underneath a boulder that was somehow attached to the ceiling, his two companions following afterwards.

"About your lover aru."

Arthur's head skidded a bit inside his chest, but he continued onwards. "Why do we have to talk about Alfred? He loves me, I love him, that's the end of that."

"It no that, Arthur. We want to know- well…Kiku and Ludwig, specifically, but I suppose everyone wondering this-"

"Everyone wants to know how you were able to do it," Feliciano finished, flying a bit faster forward to land on a small cliff that was embedded into the wall.

"Do…whot?" His face blossomed brightly into a scarlet shade; they didn't mean _It_, did they? The two of them had to have already made love with their lovers, right? Yao must have read him easily, because he started to laugh when he saw the other's expression.

"Not that, aru," he grinned. "We already know how."

Arthur blushed, but stayed silent, looking between the two for an explanation.

"Ludwig and Kiku said that before we came along, Alfred was really mean and rude and grumpy all the time," the perky Italian clarified. "But when he met you, he started to become happier than before and now he's not like that! The others want to know how you changed him, how you got him to be nice and happy."

The Briton gently sat himself down beside Feliciano, pondering on what he had just been told. Alfred had been mean and rude before they had met? That was strange, considering how he acted around his lover. But that did explain the situation a little bit, such as how he had bitten him when they first met and had something of a temper within him. Maybe because he had pale red eyes for a long while, symbolizing he was lonely and wanted someone. And like he had mentioned before, he had searched everywhere for an Arthur Kirkland and hadn't found one until he met the true owner of that name. But the thing was, he couldn't answer their question because he didn't know how to answer it if he didn't have anything to reply with.

"I was there for him," Arthur began slowly and quietly. "I… I can't really explain it because I don't know how or whot I did. I mean…when I first saw him, I didn't feel anything but fear for him. I wasn't attracted in any way to him. But…the more and more times he used those compliments he gives me, I…I supposed you could say I may have gotten myself into something that made me never want to leave." Arthur could recall every moment that he had had with his American demon, every kiss they had shared, every word they had spoken to one another. "And…I don't regret a damn thing…

"I risked my life for him. I risked my life for us. I could have stayed an angel forever, but instead, I let myself become a demon so I could be with him. He just seemed so lonely and sad…I wanted to give him the same feeling he had given me, to make him feel that same happiness that I had received from him. And nothing else mattered in the whole entire universe. Anything could happen to us at any moment of the day and whotever that would be…it wouldn't matter, because Alfred and I aren't separated in half. We're both whole because we have each other to hold on to and to never let go. And thanks to that feeling of completion…we'll be together for eternity."

Arthur will admit that he had drifted off somewhere during his monologue, filling his head with memories and words and feelings that he experienced throughout his time as a lover to Alfred. He meant every word he had previously said, because anything could happen to them, and it wouldn't matter what it would be, as long as they weren't separated. They had sold their souls to each other long ago and hadn't returned the hearts that they held. Arthur didn't want to, and he was sure Alfred felt the same. The other owned his heart and would protect it and give it loving care for the most important person in their lives.

Feliciano's light sniffles brought the English demon back to reality, and he resisted a chuckle but managed a smile before he tugged the Italian into a one-arm hug. The younger male rested his head against Arthur's shoulder and sighed lightly and shakily.

"You two are so much in love," he sniffed, rubbing his wrist under his nose. "It's so sweet!"

"Thank you, Feli," he smiled. "I'm sure you feel the same way about your lover, right?"

At the mention of Ludwig, Feliciano perked up and nearly fell off the cliff. "Ludwig is everything good in the world! He's wonderful and sweet and kind and loves me and protects me when I get scared and he makes sure I'm always smiling and he loves me so much and…I don't know what to do with myself!" The Italian leaned backwards with a melodramatic exhale and let his wings carry him a few feet away from them. "I can stay with him holding hands for forever and eternity~!"

_I feel the same way…_ Arthur hadn't realized it until the white-haired Son of the Dark started to go through the rest of the obstacle course when it hit him: all of the angels that had come here and been changed to demons were madly and utterly in love with those that had brought them here. There was no doubt about it with Ludwig and Feliciano, and Francis and Matthew (by what he had seen at Hyde Park) seemed deeply passionate with each other. Kiku and Yao seemed that secretive couple that weren't as public with their relationship as everyone else, but could be when they wanted to. He didn't know much about Antonio and Lovino, but the way their hands were intertwined and their eyes shifted to each other once in a while at the meeting earlier that day, one of them giving a smile that was returned, he was sure they were in love as well.

And then there was Alfred and him. Sweet, kind, loving, handsome, goofy, protective Alfred. It was too obvious that the two of them were in love and completely head-over-heels, horns-over-wings, for each other. They were going to do anything to keep the other safe and out of harm, even if it was risking his life.

* * *

><p>"<em>Anglais<em>~! We need to see you!"

The familiar French accent rang out around the room about a half hour later, while the three were practicing their flight. Arthur could see the white-haired demon from where he was, and he glided over to a tunnel that was in the air by silver chains, sliding against the inside on his stomach and looking down at Francis in detest. "Whot do you need?" He called down to him, voice heavy with boredom. There had been a peace over the trio in the room, and the Briton didn't want it to be ruined by the Frenchman.

"Zere are some friends who wish to speak wiz you."

"And I should believe you because…?" He never trusted a Frenchman; they were all too disturbing and too weak and too grabby.

Francis must have felt the hate radiating towards him, because he rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Your Américain boyfriend is waiting for you, _imbécile._ If you do not wish to come to 'im, you can explain zat yourself."

Arthur rolled his eyes but nonetheless said his good-byes to Feliciano and Yao, and then dropped down to the ground, where he followed the white-haired male in silence. They went down a corridor to the left and turned several times, so much that the Brit was nearly convinced that this was a counterattack that would be going against him. He shivered slightly at the thought, wondering what he would do then, but didn't have to dwell much on the idea when he arrived in a barren circle of a room, the cone of a ceiling carved with claw marks and craters alike. "Where the hell did you bring me, frog?" The Englishman turned around to comment, and had to jump out of the way when a large brown bull came charging at him.

He had been right. Counterattack, definitely.

He dodged out of the way hastily by gathering air, how he had been taught, by using his wings and got away from the charging animal. The raging bull snorted at him, glaring at him with jade eyes for not reaching him. The Briton growled deep in his throat, but it stopped when a louder rumble was heard, and he turned to see a large cheetah, Francis, snarling at him. He was trapped and defeated if he was going to escape by ground, and both exits were blocked. There was no possible way for him to get out.

A loud squawk from above him had him glancing up and zooming just out of the way of a black eagle's clutches, and he dove forward, just missing the claws from grazing his wings. Unfortunately, the bird followed him, and the demon got close enough to the ground to receive a swipe from the talons of the large feline and a stampede from the bull. He dodged the claws but was unable to get away from the head of the stomping animal, and was drilled into the ground harshly.

Arthur flew against the wall, bringing a few bricks down with his fall, and was in the ground in a heap. Luckily, the three transformed demons didn't charge him, and he was able to glower at them harshsly. _If it's a fight they want, it's a fight they'll get._

With a snarl of his lips toward the trio of animals, he stood on two feet strongly and unfurled his wings. The three creatures glared at him, and the demon took a running step forward, charging forward. The cheetah sped up and met his speed in a few easy steps, but instead of connecting with him, he jumped over him and landed perfectly on his feet, touching down on the other's tail. The cat snarled in pain and scratched his nails into the floor.

The eagle swooped forward, claws outstretched, but the Briton got close to the ground and missed them, extending his own talons from his hand (as every demon owned), and grappled onto the feathers tautly. The bird dropped down to the ground, screeching loudly and flapping its wings as the scarlet-haired male tugged a feather out and let it fall to the ground. He avoided the sharp beak that now pecked down at him, open or closed, trying to pierce him, but the demon got the eagle to move down each time he would strike and was successful in giving himself a small scratch against his shoulder and getting the beak to stab into the tail of the feline, who gave another loud roar.

Arthur gave a sneer of his lips to the remaining beast. "Would you like to face me as well?" The bull snorted loudly at him, and he stamped his feet into the ground before making a run forward. The Briton waited with fists clenched, arms at his side. The animal got closer quickly. The former Londoner remained in his place. Just as the bull was just three steps away, the demon leapt into the air and spread his wings out on either side of him, flying through the two horns and landing on four, pawed feet. The bull slid forward, hooves on either side to stop him from running into the other two but failing. While the trio flailed and tried to regain their bearings, the Brit examined himself the best that he could.

His height had definitely changed, for he was much closer to ground than he had been. His entire body felt strange and covered in fur, and his body felt longer. There was a brown, coarse fur that surrounded his head alone, but he could see his tail was lengthier than before and puffy at the end. The rest of his body, when he looked down where he could, was a perfect golden color and there were four talons coming out of his paws. When he ran his tongue over his teeth, he felt sharp canines and molars inside his maw, and when he wiggled his ears, he discovered they were smaller and rounder than before, as well as more enhanced.

When he glanced over at the trio, he saw that they were back to demon form and nursing any wounds they had. Gilbert, the German-sounding one as well as the large eagle, looked annoyed, but nonetheless smirked at the Briton. "Nice job for a beginner," he complimented. Francis and Antonio glared at him, looking a bit battered and cold. Arthur didn't know what was happening, but he wasn't panicking. He sniffed at the trio, and turned around to gaze at the newcomer.

Alfred leaned against the inside of the door with a smile, and strode over to his lover when the lion (because Arthur figured that's what he most likely was) roared at him and bounded over. The American rubbed behind his ear and laughed when he jumped up on his shoulders, nuzzling and purring at him. "Look at you, my Lovely," he grinned, rubbing behind his ear. Arthur arched his back and sat down on his hind feet, pawing the air and humming at the feel. Alfred placed a kiss against his wet nose, and received a lick from a tongue and a loving gaze. "I think you're ready, my Thornless Rose."

_So do I,_ Arthur thought. _Ready for eternity._


	37. Confrontation

**...**

**What the hell did I just write? That last part is just like...I don't even know!**

**Okay, sooo, going on vacation for a few days (yaaay~!) Nothing big like the Canyon that is Grand, but it sounds pretty cool! But I'm hoping to update the second-to-last chapter on Saturday, AKA Bastille Dayyy~~~ :D Also known as France's birthday ^-^ That sexy beast...XDDD Ahh, I know, I know, he belongs to Canada.**

**...**

**Wait, who? XD**

**So yeah. Did you know France is like, practically 2000 years old? Well, if you don't count the Gaul/Gallia/whatever the hell that area was during the age of Grandpa Rome and Germania, he's like 1611. If you DO count Gaul/Gallia/whatever the hell that area was during the age of Grandpa Rome and Germania, he's about 2069. Holy shit, 20_69_! BRB, dyinggg, USUK thoughts oh God!**

**Okay, before I die from laughter, I own nothing but the plot. Hidekaz Himaruya owns all characters. Satan is free ground. But I own his female appearance XD Okay, no more spoilers:**

**Enjoy~!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 37:<p>

Confrontation

After he had changed from a lion to his demon form, he and Alfred bid their good-byes to their friends and were off to the main building, sneaking through the battlegrounds, their hands intertwined as they hastily rushed to the enemy's side. Demons were fighting against one another, some disappearing into dust right on the spot, and others wounded and thrown above them. Arthur made sure to stay close to his lover, and held tight to his trembling hand, squeezing it every now and then to reassure them both. The American glanced behind him briefly, and smiled quickly, only turning back when he received the same in return.

"We're gonna be alright, Flawless Beauty," the younger whispered. "We're gonna be alright."

"I trust you," the Brit replied back with a smile. "There's no doubt in my mind you'll keep to your word."

Alfred chuckled, and stole a glance behind his shoulder at him. "How did you know?"

The duo were close to the dome now, and nestled themselves in between the large rocks that were nearby, Arthur in the other's lap, their bodies flush against each other and warm. Now they couldn't do much but wait for the Nordic demons to give the signal. Mathias, Lukas and Emil were already out and fighting, but until Tino and Berwald returned, they would be able to proceed.

"Are you nervous?" The American wondered quietly into his ear, wounding his arms around his waist gently and letting his hands rets against his lower back.

The Briton shook his head, and looked over at his lover. "No, not really," he answered, toying with Alfred's tie to keep himself occupied. "I'm keeping myself distracted so that I don't think about it." He halted a bit in his movements, his thoughts wondering to a conclusion of sorts. "Are you?"

Alfred shook his head confidently, but it was obvious in his eyes that there was something he wasn't sharing.

"Poppet, you don't have to hide anything." He let his hands slide over around his neck, and he let his wrists hang there limply. "You know you can tell me anything. You trust me…right?"

"Yeah, I know, Arthur." His thumb ran slow fingers into his side, spacing out for a bit before returning. "I'm not afraid I'll do something wrong… I'm worried for you."

Arthur's cheeks lit up faintly, and he bowed his head to hide it. "You're ridiculous, I'll be fine, silly git. You know where I'll be, right?"

"It still gets me nervous, though. I don't want to lose you again." He leaned forward to burrow his face halfway into his shoulder. "I don't know what I'd do with myself if I did."

"Alfred, Luv…" The scarlet-haired demon rubbed his fingers through the black tresses, a light smile on his face. "You're much too sweet. But I can assure you right now that no harm will come to me. I promise you that."

Before the younger male could reply back, a loud, blood-curling scream rang out and startled the two from their moment of tranquility.

Tino, the one who had screamed, was fighting back a larger, one-horned, dark-eyed demon that was slashing his claws in front of him to get his prey. The Finnish demon jumped back, using his wings to assist him and defending himself with a long spear. Both had injuries lacing over their bodies, but neither looked as if they were going to be backing down anytime soon. Both of the hiding lovers tensed up and flinched at the sight, but entwined their hands together and squeezed to reassure him.

The Finn held up the staff of his weapon to block the claws, pushing them away from him and taking a step back. "Try and get me now, _äpärä_," (1) he growled, and let the rod fly from his hands, severing off the other horn before he flipped over his head to retrieve the weapon. Tino lifted up into the air and drove the sharp end of the spear down to pierce the demon in the head this time. A clawed hand reached out and grasped the spear, crushing it and shoving him backwards. Tino went flying a distance away, landing on his back with a sickening bend of his wings as his spear was sent off somewhere distant from his reach. Arthur started to stand to assist him, but was pulled back down by his lover before he could be seen.

"Not yet," Alfred reminded him quietly, enveloping both of his arms around his waist to hold him down. The Brit frowned, placing his hands on the darker-haired male's shoulders, and nonetheless continued to watch the fight.

"I've always wanted to taste you, fresh meat," the blood-lust demon chuckled, getting on all fours and sauntering over to his opponent. Tino spit out some blood, having rolled over to his knees to hack up anything that had been in his throat.

"You're not going to be able to," the Finnish demon snarled, trembling as his body struggled to support his weight. "I won't let you…"

"But I will~." The enemy stuck his neck out and inhaled, sighing when whatever smell reached his nose before he opened up a mouthful of teeth and dove forward.

Unfortunately for him, there was a large rock soon stuffed inside, causing him to hack before it was swallowed and caused him to burst into dust and sparks.

"No one h'rts m'wife," stated the Swedish male, Arthur remembered him being called Berwald, who had appeared in front of Tino. The latter smiled up at the Son of the Dark, and laughed. The taller offered a hand and Tino took it, jumping back up quickly and leaning up to place a kiss upon Berwald's lips.

"_Tusen tack_," (2) the shorter grinned. Berwald pushed back his hair and gave a small rise of his lips in return.

"_Tietenkin, rakkaani_," (3) he answered back, planting a kiss upon his forehead. "'re ya 'lr'ght?"

With a relaxed exhale, he rested his head against Berwald's chest. "Never better."

The Swedish male smiled one last time before spotting Arthur and Alfred, and gave them both a nod. "Ye c'n go now. Ye don't h've t' w'rry. He's not 'xp'ct'ng ye."

"Thanks, Berwald," Alfred grinned, helping both he and his lover up. Berwald nodded, Tino looking behind him to give a wave to the duo. The American looked down at his love with a gentle look in his eyes. "Wanna go cause some mayhem?"

Arthur smiled wide, and grabbed his hand excitedly; "Nothing better than that, Luv."

* * *

><p>After the duo snuck into the building, navigated as much as they could before they were forced to run into a small cupboard under a flight of stairs to hide, they ended up extremely close to each other, so much that their wings were tucked flush against them. Arthur didn't mind, since he was currently being held close to the warmest body with arms that were just as warm around him, that steady heart beating for him only. But it was a bit difficult to appreciate all of this, when you were busy valuing and adoring the pair of lips that were over his.<p>

"They've already…passed, Poppet," the shorter whispered, pulling on the other's tie so that he could pull him closer and have more access to his chest. "We should ge_mm…_get going now…"

"In a bit," Alfred murmured, hands roaming around his hips and back, devouring every moan let out and giving them back to him. "I need to…need to feel you."

Arthur broke apart from him so that they could properly lift him up against the wall and embrace the taller male's hips with his legs. His arms wrapped around his neck, followed by a mouth that devoured and nibbled and licked his neck hungrily. Alfred groaned into his ear, his thighs shifting forward to rub his arousal in between his lover's spread lower limbs. "We should be…getting to Satan, _mm_…we can make love later."

"Fuck Satan. He can wait." The American's slim fingers fumbled with his partner's zipper, it taking several attempts due to the distraction at his throat before he was successful into tugging the other's trousers and undergarments down.

The scarlet-haired demon sighed at the release, one hand snaking down to return the favor. "I'd rather fuck you…than do anything else." He sucked at his throat one last time, moaning and licking and nibbling and sending shivers down the other's body.

Alfred chuckled quietly into his ear, flicking the shell and inside with his tongue. "I'd love to experience that."

"Later…" Once the other's pants were down, he lazily lapped at the fingers of his free hand and brought one to his entrance, slipping it in smoothly. "Right now…I need you somewhere important."

The younger grinned, and connected their lips together, both moaning when their stimulated members rubbed against each other. And, too quickly, Alfred was pushing inside of him and Arthur was swallowing everything given to him greedily. Their rhythm was smooth and even and full of every ounce of amorous feelings that they held for each other. The Briton, panting, looked deep into the blood-red eyes and grinned; there was something about the way that they fit together that made him feel so much more complete and satisfied. He shoved his lower half downwards, savoring the feel of the completion that washed over him. He was too lost in the pleasure and the desire and the aspiration to realize anything besides Alfred, even as he gave a trembling breath and finished over them, tightening around his lover and causing him to complete as well. Slowly, they slid to the ground, minds foggy and hearts thumping. Arthur tangled their hands together, giving his lover an exhausted smile that was filled with adoration.

"I needed that a lot."

"So did I." Alfred grinned, despite his loss of breath, and pressed his lips against his fingers. "Do you want to wait here for a bit before going on?"

"That sounds marvelous." He shifted so that there was enough room for both of them to sit beside each other, and the American locked and barricaded the door with whatever supplies were there before plopping beside his lover. He wrapped his arm around the other's waist as soon as he was beside him, rubbing the side of it gently and receiving the same in return. Their lips connected once again, this time sweeter and gentler than before, and they gradually rested their eyes, hands folded together and heads resting against one another. Arthur hoped that their days would always be spent like this after they finished their business with the Devil.

* * *

><p>It had been an hour since he and Alfred had snuck into the empty office-like room, and he was already restless. His lover, who was supposed to be hiding in an air duct in the wall, was spinning around in the swivel chair that Arthur should be in as of right now, laughing joyfully and singing the United States' national anthem in tidbits. The Briton was seated on the large desk, rubbing his closed eyes with his thin fingers as his feet hung over the edge and his wings were free to stretch out behind him. His patience was wearing thin, not just because his American love wasn't listening or paying attention to him, but the Devil hadn't appeared yet. There was a gnawing feeling inside of him, however, that made him worry that at any moment he could appear from the door and catch them (even though the door was locked).<p>

"Alfred, Poppet, could you please do me a favor and get back inside the vent like you're supposed to?" Arthur asked him for what seemed to be the thousandth time since they had gotten there.

The young demon stopped spinning and stopped, holding onto the edge of the desk in front of him with a frown. "But it's smelly and small and I don't get to see you!" He pouted, sticking his lower lip out and looking off to the side.

The Briton bit his lip, torn between abiding to his lover's wishes and ignoring him and getting him where he was needed to be. "W-well…wh-whot if Satan were to walk in right now and see you? You would probably be smote right on the spot!"

Alfred made a raspberry with his lips, and then leaned forward, resting his chin in his palm. "But you would be smoted, too. Remember? You were at the trial, so he saw you already." The American reached over and grasped his hand tightly. "I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

Because of Alfred's so well-known feat of starting the rebellion, their group knew it would be extremely risky if he were to show his face to Satan. However, he wasn't familiar with Arthur's beside the one time at the trial. With the American hiding, Arthur would try and convince Satan to give up. If that didn't work, Alfred was permitted to come out of his hiding spot and help him from then on. "Alfred…"The scarlet-haired Son of the Dark furrowed his eyebrows together before he grabbed his face and pulled him close to him, placing his lips on his and slipping his tongue in when he felt the mouth beneath his give access. He moved over the desk edge, using his wings to keep him in the air before he moved to his lap to make it easier for them.

"I don't want to leave you alone just yet," the dark-haired demon admitted against his lips. "I want to spend every second with you until he's here."

"Hmm…" The Englishman fiddled with his jacket, wondering when and how he had become so enamored by him, and when he had become a captive of his love. "I suppose…it'll be okay if you stay until he arrives."

"Yaaaay~!" Alfred beamed, eyes crinkling, and snuggled his lover closer to him, stuffing his face into his hair and sighing loudly. "Love you, Thornless Rose~!"

Arthur shook his head with a laugh. _That's why._

About a half hour later, the two were disturbed from their brief nap from the rustle of the door. The Briton, still half-dazed, looked over at the entrance and yawned. "Dearest, get back in the vent," he mumbled. "He's here."

"Noooo," Alfred, snoring quietly, snorted and shuffled in place, moving the British demon closer to him. "Gimme fi'e mo'e minu'es…"

"Alfred…" The Englishman was about to shake him awake, but noticed the cowlick, Nantucket, that was in front of his hairline twitching. Arthur's eyebrow quirked up, and he smirked before he leaned up and took the strand of hair in his mouth, sucking his mouth in and sending his tongue sliding over it.

"A-a-ah~!" Alfred jumped from his spot, eyes wide open and face a bright red. "A-A-Arthur~ later!" He jumped up, sending his lover on the desk, and zoomed up to the vent, curling up inside like a cat and giving Arthur a glare that was full of embarrassment. "That's my erogenous zone, Artie."

"Next time, you can get up when I tell you to. Either that, or I can abuse it later on tonight." The statement was settled with a wink, and he chuckled when he saw more scarlet on his love's face that matched the shade of his hair. "You would like that, wouldn't you?"

"M-maybe…" Alfred hid his face into the sleeve of his bomber jacket, looking over at Arthur with his eyes scrunched up in a hidden smile. "Only as much as you like your neck being messed with."

This time, it was the Briton's turn to blush. "Th-that's not true!"

The two, seeing the other's foolish denial, smiled at each other before the American hid his body with a simple unfurl of his wings around his curled-up form and the Englishman turned in the chair to face the now-open door.

"Hello, Satan," he greeted the Devil with a sinister-filled smirk, and hid the surprise that he found when he looked at the ruler of Hell.

There was no doubt that it was Satan; skin that was as red as blood, black hair as dark as night, eyes the darkest and most evil sight to ever see, horns sleek and pointy, tail jagged with scales that branched off to act as knives. But as for the rest of him- or, rather, _her…_ She- Satan- was the same height as the male counterpart, but her body was curvaceous at the hips and there were rather large…girl parts on her chest. Her outfit was short and showed too much, and if Arthur looked down, he would bet money that in between her thin legs, he would find something that only women had, and he didn't want to see it. Seeing a woman as sexual as this made him nervous, but he held it down when he remembered that Alfred was right in one of the vents behind his head if needed him.

"Have we met?" The female version of the Devil wondered with a quizzical look on her face. Her fangs poked out from her mouth, sharp canines that the Brit was sure she wouldn't hesitate in using.

"Whether I have seen you before or not does not make a difference," he replied, rotating a bit in the chair before leaning back and sitting his feet up on the desk. She hissed out her thin, pronged tongue but didn't comment any more on the matter than that. "Whot makes the difference is that you have been performing repressing actions on your so-called Children, so much that it has led to a war."

"If you're here to tell me that I should stop the war, you're going to receive no reply from me."

Arthur narrowed his eyes at Satan as she sauntered over to her desk and stared him down. "If you think you're ruling Hell smoothly, then you're wrong. You have a rebellion, a revolution, a war, going on in your grounds, something that has brought angels from the Heavens into this. Don't you think it would be right to stop?"

The Devil leant over the top of the table to glare at him closer, but the Briton turned his chair around. When he was with Ludwig and Kiku for his training sessions, the two informing him about what was happening and about the Boss, as well as how much power (s)he had. They had also mentioned to him that Satan could send messages through pictures telepathically to force you to back down from an argument, seen when (s)he would lean forward close to you and stare into your eyes. The best method to do when that occurred was to turn away and not make eye contact. And that was exactly what he was doing.

"I remember you now," she murmured under her breath, objects being scratched against the tabletop and to the side as she most likely sat on the desk right behind the chair. "You were that demon that wanted to protect the starter of this rebellion."

"Alfred Jones did not start anything but a way to finish off the unfair treatments," he fired back at her quietly yet sternly. A clawed finger traced up his shoulder, past his neck and to his face, curling under and around his chin and cheek.

"I'll have you know, sir, that I do things my way. I do not need an amateur telling me what to do."

"I have reinforcements hidden in this room."

Satan stopped in place, her other hand close to impaling his heart. Her breath tickled his neck, mouth so close to his throat that he could feel the presence of her fangs. Her talons slowly trailed up to his collarbone, digging into the dip of it through his shirt. Arthur made no move towards her, but his heart was hammering rapidly in his chest. He hoped that she didn't notice, and that Alfred would do something soon.

"I have demons hidden in this room and around the area who wouldn't hesitate to bring you down. Make one move to harm me and they're coming out." His voice was as steady as he could make it, what with his frazzled nerves. He didn't want this being anywhere near him.

For a moment, Satan was silent, simply breathing against him, but after a minute or so, she removed herself from him, and he rotated around to face her. "I will stop the war."

"Will you now." He didn't believe her words, no matter how she looked or what she said. The English demon wanted to see it happen, not hear it.

The female version of the Devil quirked an eyebrow, but then relaxed and smirked. "When I give my word, I give my word. I will give up the struggle." She held her hand out delicately in a handshake, to seal the deal. To Arthur, it looked like poison that would strike him at any moment. "I don't bite unless you want to, Arthur."

It took the Englishman a minute or so, but eventually, he reached his hand forward and placed his palm together with the other's freezing one. Instantly, a chill ran down his spine, and saw nothing but a blur of the world until the left side of his back rammed into the wall, cracking a part of his wing and nearly bending his tail. His vision spun out of focus, moving too quick for him to focus solely on anything, and he finally settled for letting his forehead lean against his forearm.

"You're both highly yet lowly inexperienced. I'm surprised at you. You know when to turn your head but you don't know how to trust the Devil."

His body was rolled under some unearthly power towards the desk, and once he was able to look at something without seeing blurs, he was a bit shocked, in pain from the pressure on his injured wing and definitely frightened to see the female sitting on his stomach with a sneer and smirk. He glared at her as he lifted his arms up to shove her off, but they were held down by an invisible force. His entire body, save for anything internal and his eyes, was deprived of any movement whatsoever. He was trapped.

Satan leaned forward and burrowed her nose into his collar. He hissed, trying to force his legs to move but only receiving a bit of twitching as a response. "You smell like tea and scones."

"You smell like a bastard," he spat out as best he could, his jaw having a bit of difficulty functioning but not enough to stop him from using it.

She clucked her tongue at him, swatting at his nose with a smirk. "What a rude thing." She shook her head. "There are things that I can do when I'm in this form, things I can't do when I'm a male." As she shifted around momentarily and positioned herself differently, Arthur gulped. He didn't want to be anywhere near the parts of a female's anatomy that should be hidden.

"You stay away from me." The threat was a growl and full of menace, but it went unnoticed as the head of one side of the demons giggled.

"You sound like you can be quite the pervert sometimes." One hand flew to his tie, freeing it from being pressed under his jacket, and used it to tug him upwards into her open, free chest. Arthur closed his eyes shut from the sight, but could still feel the flesh against his cheek. He wanted to vomit, and if he was able to if not for the lump of fear in his throat, he most likely would have right on her chest. Her other hand was busy with the zipper of his pants, fumbling with it as she pulled it downwards and released his limp, flaccid member. "Someone was quite dirty before he came here, hm? I can smell the semen from your ass and dick from right here."

_Alfred, please._ "You can leave that alone." Another attempt to move his legs was made, but they only twitched and squirmed, barely moving in the direction he needed and desired for them to be. _Help me._

"I won't do anything bad to you. Trust me." One of his hands was raised and brought to her legs, sliding up until it met coarse hair, rough against his skin. He cringed, especially when he felt her move closer down to him.

"I'd rather trust a thousand-year-old corpse before I trust you." _Alfred, dear, please._

Satan grinned. "That sounds wonderful." She removed his hand and moved down even more than before. "Have you ever been with a woman?"

Arthur couldn't remember the last time he felt this helpless, and bit his lip to prevent any more words from flying out of his mouth. _Alfred, god dammit, luv, please! Help!_

**__Translations:__**

1__. äpärä_ _(Finnish):bastard

2. _Tusen tack_ (Swedish): A thousand thanks

3. _Tietenkin, rakkaani _(Finnish): Of course, my love


	38. Achievement

**I don't even know what that last part was. I'm sorry o.o But I have over 69,000 hits...hehehe...69...XD**

**Anyways, LAST CHAPTER BEFORE THE EPILOGUE AND THEN IT'S OVER! ;A; I'm really depressed about that; like, extremely. But! I have a new story to get going with! ^-^**

**So, I own nothing but the plot. Familiar characters go to Hidekaz Himaruya, but Satan is free ground, I guess XD So, as you always have been:**

**Enjoy~!**

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><p>Chapter 38:<p>

Achievement

Arthur was frightened to death, eyes wide with fright and his breath leaving his body hastily and entering just as fast. The female version of the Devil seemed extremely close to him, but he was unable to move either of their bodies. Satan only became closer and grabbier, her hands wavering around his chest and neck and face despite how much he attempted to move away from her. The woman leant in close to his ear, licking it before whispering; "I'm about to do things to you that you have never witnessed before."

"Get off me," he growled, wanting to desperately move his head. _Alfred F. Jones, bloody hell, get your fucking arse over here and help me!_

The Devil smirked, and leant her lower half backwards. Arthur instantly tensed and his stomach churned in fear.

_This is it. Oh God, this is it, god dammit!_

But just as quick as she was there, the female was off of him and in the unexpectedly brutal grip of the American demon that had appeared out of seemingly nowhere.

"You can leave my Thornless Rose alone now," Alfred growled at Satan, who instantly started to thrash back and forth and try to escape. The black-haired male bent down so that he was towering over her, and then beamed at his lover. "Sorry I'm late, Beautiful~! I tried to get out here sooner but I couldn't get my ass and wings out of the vent for a second, but then I just ripped the wall out and flew over here!"

The Brit laughed effortlessly at his foolish love, feeling the effects of the disabling spell wear off and him able to sit up weakly. His wings stiffened at the new position, one of them twitching in pain after being rammed into the wall head-on. "Thank you, luv," he smiled, and took the hand that somehow was able to move from the struggling head demon and assist him to his feet. "So then…whot do you suppose we do about her? Or…him…or it."

"Hmm…I say we force him-her-gender-neutral-person-thing to end the war or else we'll devour his-her-gender-neutral-person-thing's body!"

Arthur raised an eyebrow in curiosity but then rolled his eyes. "Alfred, that's ridiculous, we can't eat the Devil's soul."

"Awww." The younger seemed strangely saddened by that fact. "Why not? I think we should!"

"Alfred, who will take over Hell if we do?"

"I can!"

The Briton would have laughed if under different circumstances, and if his beloved hadn't appeared to be so serious. "Poppet, you can't just kill a ruler and then expect everyone else to follow your orders!"

"But I would be an awesome boss, Artie! Everyone else thinks so!"

"No offense to your friends, but from whot I've seen, Gilbert is a narcissist and probably insane, so you shouldn't take his words seriously."

"But Artie-"

"And no calling me 'Artie'. It's Arthur. 'Artie' sounds like a child's name."

"But it's cute like you and Arthur is too long to sayyyy!"

"They're both two syllables, Alfred. And it's not too difficult to say."

"Ar_thurrrrrr!_"

"No."

"…Beautiful…_pleeeease_ lemme call you Artie?"

Arthur tried to glare as a disapproving answer, but came up short and was left with nothing to do but look away and sputter in embarrassment. "D-don't even try that, Alfred! I know whot you're doing, and I'm not going to stand for any of it right now."

The scarlet-haired demon turned his back to his lover, but felt a warm pair of arms envelop his waist and tug him into a muscular chest. "Beautiful…I want to show my love to you in any way that I can. Can I please call you Artie?"

The British Son of the Dark glanced over at his lover with a soft look in his eyes. Alfred's lips rose up into a bigger smile, and he connected their lips together sweetly. Arthur returned the kiss, but then pulled back when realization washed over him. "Dearest…"

"Hm?"

"…You do realize you moved your hands and arms, correct…"

"Mhm." He pressed a gentler kiss on his neck, just where he knew his lover liked it. "What about it?"

"…Where the hell is Satan?"

Alfred was silent, resting his head on his shoulder and strangely still. But his thumbs were rubbing circles into his side that soothed his nerves down just a little and assured him of his presence. "Maybe…he ran away?"

The Briton rotated around and gave him a look that read "Are you fucking serious?" The American gave a wide yet nervous smile before his breath stopped short, he shakily inhaled, and he fell to the ground in a depressing heap that Arthur almost didn't catch and was forced to bring down to the grimy floor. "Alfred? Alfred, luv, speak to me! Are you alright?"

"Your lover is too weak."

The Englishman looked up to see Satan, still female but decked out in armor and armed with weapons. "Whot did you do to him?"

"I knocked him out with a small pellet that seeps into his skin and render him to unconsciousness. He was in the way." The female raised a bow and placed an arrow against the rubber band. "So now I can get to you."

Arthur didn't know how to feel. His head was reeling, his heart was hammering and breaking, he felt the panic wash over him and drown him into worry, and he reached behind him for a hand to grasp but came out empty. He gave a whimper that was hard to detect, remembering that his Beloved Luv- his Dearest- his Poppet- was on the floor currently, knocked out, leaving him alone to fend for both of them now. He wanted to scream. He wanted to kick something. He wanted to go back in time so that he would take the hit. He wanted to get revenge on him.

Revenge…

His wings, despite the pain in one of them, unfurled and he leant forward, landing on all fours as his body adjusted to the new form. Fur sprouted over his body and a mane spread around his head and neck, both changes replacing his clothes. His body was transformed to a lion quickly, something he didn't mind much, but right now, he was highly furious with him-her-gender-neutral-person-thing in front of him. Fury overpowered him, his claws tensed, and his body pounced forward and attacked the woman down to the ground.

As soon as she was pinned, he roared loudly in her face, spraying spit into her face, before he started to swipe his paws down upon her. She screeched just as loud as he was snarling. His mind was a whirlwind of darkness and intent on one focus- get the demon that had caused his lover hurt. He didn't know what he was doing at the moment, and the only thing he could think of right now was revenge. Revenge for his lover that was currently unaware of his actions, just as he was. The Briton certainly was a foggy and hazy mess, even though he was practically tearing the body up until there was nothing but sinew holding it together. And that was exactly what had happened.

When he had finally torn his way so much on the body that he scratched through to the floorboards, he stopped and sauntered over to his unconscious lover, sniffing and nudging him worriedly. Alfred was breathing, if a bit slower than normal, and he was completely still besides when he was moved by a wet nose. Arthur was worried for both of them; he needed his help for it, because he didn't know how long it would to take down Satan all on his own. He was in need of some kind of assistance.

A hiss and a slither against the ground was the cause of the lion hastily scooping the American onto his back and jumping forward out of the way. The Devil, now in his own animal form, glared at him with those strange eyes of vermillion, and pounced open-mouthed at him again. The Briton leapt away nimbly, roaring as a warning to stay away from him. He didn't want to fight with his lover so close to him, but he would have to if it led up to that.

Arthur swiped a paw out while backing away, close to hitting Satan's tail that was strangely shaped like a scorpion's. The snake lashed out with both tail and teeth, but chomping and slashing only air as the English lion gained balance on top of the desk. The reptile stretched over so that he was face-to-face with him, and hissed, "You will never essssssscapeee…"

The large feline growled at him, since he was incapable of speaking at the time, and started to weigh his options. To start fighting with the snake meant that he would be risking Alfred's life. Arthur not only believed he wouldn't be able to defeat him by himself, but he also thought that it would be difficult to focus on how to attack next and how to dodge, whilst focusing on protecting the American demon on his back. And there was no way he was setting Alfred down to fight the snake in fear he would still be vulnerable. His other choice was to escape, and there was only the shut door. He didn't know if he would be able to smash through it, and he didn't want to see if he could.

But if he could somehow get to the vent…

In the blink of an eye, he had turned and sprang forward, clawing his way into the vent and hastily disappearing into darkness. The ripped part where Alfred had ripped to get out was open, and gave him enough room to fit both of them inside. For the rest of the part, where it was narrow, he sank as low as he could to the ground and used his claws to crawl his way through, his lover lying perfectly on his back. Behind him, there was nothing but the hiss of what he assumed to be defeat. And as of right now, he had to get both he and Alfred to safety.

* * *

><p>About an hour later, Arthur finally made it to what he hoped was some sort of exit. In the floor of the air vent up ahead were gutters that let in air and dust that covered him even more than he already was. He started to make his way over to them, but was stopped when splitting pain ran inside his body from his tail. With a yelp, he collapsed forward, Alfred's body sliding over him slightly.<p>

With a seethe in pain, he looked over at the limp appendage that looked too weak to move as of right now, which was probably due to the fact that green pus was oozing out of a scratch right near the tuft of hair at the end of it. He rested his head against the floor with a groan, gritting his teeth in anger; he must have gotten hit when he was escaping. And now here he was, poison in his tail, his lover who was down for the count on his back, unable to move from his spot to continue to the exit.

"L…Lovely…?...Gorgeous…?"

His mind slowly turning foggy, he was able to register the youthful voice and gave a long moan, eyes half-lidded. The weight on top of him shifted off and to the side, and he gave a breath out of relief when he recognized the sharp scarlet eyes, the wire-thin glasses and the stubborn cowlick that refused to go down.

"Angel? What's wrong?" He asked, pushing back the mane to gaze down at him. "Are you feeling sick?"

The Briton motioned over to his tail, twitching it to get his attention. When he did, he could see Alfred's eyebrows furrow together in what seemed to be concentration.

"What is that…"

Arthur griped and tried to move again, but his body was too sluggish to move any more than he already had. Fatigue from the hour-long travel and the poison was weighing him down, and he felt heavier and weaker the more time passed. The American was in his sight again, his hands on either side of his face, determination gleaming in his eyes. His thumbs and fingers ran slow soothing circles into his skin, a purr of pleasure coming out quietly, before the younger pecked a kiss on his lips.

"You hold on, alright Beautiful? I'm gonna make you feel all better again, I promise."

The Brit didn't know what was going to happen, and he didn't know what was going to take place. All he felt was the sharp fangs in his neck that was strangely and extremely comforting for him, and he was embedded in darkness.

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><p>Alfred loved Arthur with all that he owned, and all that he had, and all that he didn't know. It was a fact, and he would do anything to make sure that he was safe and out of harm's way as much as possible. At first, his intentions were to keep him to admire him and not let anything touch or anyone see. But now, he wanted to spend every second of every living day with him.<p>

And it was painful to have to sit in the torched room, with nothing but the sweet taste of the American drink he was fond of, Coca-Cola, in his clawed hands (he wanted them out as a warning, no other reason), with Satan across from him, while Arthur was in the room nearby sleeping peacefully, free of any poison in his body but completely drained of energy. The Brit was worrying him the more time passed and he wasn't able to be with him, even though he knew with Yao and Kiku watching and nursing him, he would be alright. But he wanted to be there and assure him he was going to solve this, to hold his hand and smile with him, to laugh with him and love him and look into those scarlet eyes that were just as beautiful as his emerald pair. But as of right now, he had to settle the issues with the war right now.

"You have quite the strength with your numbers, boy," the Devil mused, his human-like form restored halfway, irises a vermillion and ears and tongue pointed. He took a sip from his wine glass filled with blood before he continued; "I'm impressed with you."

Alfred didn't respond, running the talon of his index finger along the rim of his glass. After he and an unconscious Arthur, who had changed back to his demon form once the poison was out of his body, had gotten out of the vent, he met up with his main group and ordered one of them to tell Satan that he needed to speak with him. It was his fault for poisoning his lover, but the American felt that it was also his own for not protecting him. So, right here, at that moment, they were going to end it. The dark-haired Son of the Dark would risk everything he had (besides his beloved Thornless Rose) to end the war.

"So, I heard you wanted to talk about our little quarrel." Satan smirked. "Quite a joy to see them all fight so…passionately and dedicated."

"Demons are dying every day because of these events," he replied, glaring up at his former boss over his glasses' rim. "I want to stop fairly and with as little problems as ever."

The head demon's eyebrows rose in shock, but they relaxed as he leant backwards with a _tsk._ "How are we going to satisfy both sides? In this kind of situation, only one can prevail."

The American went to take a sip from his drink, but stopped halfway. "Everything started because you were repressing our freedoms."

"There was a day when you weren't in love with a converted angel…when you were my right-hand man…my faithful soldier... What happened to that child? That young, naïve, recently dead, recently banished from Heaven soldier from the American Air Force that I found and offered the highest position here besides my own… Where did he go?"

"I owed you. You helped me when I was coming from angel to demon. And I was faithful to you until you started to repress us. You limited us, you kept us down here with no one to destroy but each other. What do you expect someone to do when that happens?"

"You sound like a Patriot during the Colonial Era of your home country. Endless taxes on your heads, endless tensions, endless troubles. I'm surprised your boyfriend is a limey at all."

"You can stop." Alfred's growl was threatening and deep, and someone could tell with one look at him that he meant it.

Satan only smirked. "Shouldn't we be talking about the war?"

"All you have to do is let us have our freedoms back and we'll stop fighting."

The head demon of Hell looked at him with cold eyes and serious aura. "I refuse to give you anything but restrictions."

Alfred finally took that sip he had needed from his glass, relishing in the bubbly feeling of the soda. He had no other way to go from here, and he now saw it as the chance to do it. He retracted his claws momentarily to reach into his pocket and pull out a glass vial that was filled with a clear liquid that swished around inside. Even holding it gave him chills, and he resisted the strong urge to hiss at it. "Give us restrictions…and I'll use this and more on the entire population of demons. On both sides."

Satan chuckled insanely. "You plan to use holy water to get what you want?" He leaned back in his seat and continued with his mockery. "The nineteen-year-old American demon that always dreamed of someone to hold and love him will commit genocide with _holy water_!"

"Twenty-one," he glared, his hand that still had talons curling and imprinting him. "And I'm not afraid to use it."

"You're quite the trip, boy." He wiped his eyes where nothing was there, and sighed. "Your determination to end this your way is funny."

The American hurled the vial across the table, intending to hit the Devil but instead it passed over his head and nearly hit him, shattering against the wall instead. Satan calmed down slowly, his eyes glaring harshly but amusement still playing on his features.

"You're a little shit, aren't you… No wonder your rich parents hated you."

Alfred bared his teeth and fangs, but didn't say anything else.

The Devil seemed unfazed by the act. "Terribly bad for your so-called 'lover'. A limey angel that was just as lonely as you, who hated you when you met him. Such a little bastard, that one. And your brother and lover were always the odd men out above everyone else, weren't they? Not only gay, but also pussy."

In two seconds, the younger was across the table and squeezing the throat of his former boss, digging his talons inside. "Insult me and I'll take it. Insult my lover and brother and you're a dead man."

Satan rolled his eyes and chuckled, shaking his head as he did so. "So defensive." He reached up and placed his hands on the American's wrists. The skin burnt underneath it, smoldering and hot, and Alfred moved them away. "I will move out my army to a new location. You can leave your side here. We won't cross each other's paths. That way, both of our sides can be satisfied. Do we have a deal?" He held out a hand in waiting to seal the plan.

Alfred glared at the offering with malice and hatred. What he wanted was for everyone to be free, for everyone to be unrepressed. That was the fair way, a freer way. But both sides needed to be satisfied completely, and this deemed the only way that was possible. The dark-haired demon narrowed his eyes and connected their palms, shaking once before the hands fell to their sides. "You're to never cross my path."

"And you are to never cross mine." The Devil smirked, took his glass of blood, stood from his seat and was left in a puff of smoke. The American got down to the floor and leant against the table.

He had done it. The war was over. Their fight was over.

Alfred went to go back to his seat and think some more before telling the others, but he was stopped by the sight of his pale, beautiful, wonderful lover, in the bomber jacket he had been given from his love, leaning against the doorframe. "Arthur. You're up."

The Brit's lips raised in a kind smile, and Alfred's heart and stomach flipped. "Hello, Dearest," he grinned.

The younger ran to him and hugged him, bringing him up into an embrace and cuddling into his chest. Arthur laughed gently, the sound joyful and carefree. The taller looked up at him from the added height he had given his lover and beamed. "I did it. I ended the war."

Arthur's smile seemed to only get bigger, and he let out another laugh before taking either side of the American's face and passionately connecting their lips. Alfred responded just as fervent, giving a soft moan when his arms enveloped around his neck and long fingers twirled into his hair. His own hand wavered down to the soft bum of his shorter lover, squeezing and kneading it in between his hands. The English demon groaned and pulled back from the kiss, pressing their foreheads together so their lips were centimeters apart, and he breathed out a chuckle. "Are you ready for eternity, luv?"

Alfred returned the sound of joy, pressing their lips together in one more, quick peck. "Always."


	39. Epilogue: Completion

**For the last and final time, I own nothing but the plot of this story. Hidekaz Himaruya owns all familiar characters.**

**Thanks to all who read and suffered from feels and favorited and did anything else to love this story. Thank you all so much.**

**Enjoy one last time :)**

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><p>Epilogue: Completion<p>

Once upon a time, there was a British boy born in a suburb outside of rainy London, England. He was loved by his parents and detested by most of his siblings. When he was only three, his oldest brother locked him in a closet and malnourished him for nearly ten hours. When he grew older, he discovered he did not like girls. He loved to read, and when the other kids got on his nerves, he would dive into his fairy tale of witches and fairies and unicorns and Pegasus, to save himself from the ridicule of others. He was the smartest in his classes, a bright boy with a passion for reading and writing and fairy tales, and he had a dream that someday, he would find somebody who understood him well and didn't judge him for who he was.

Once upon a time, there was an American boy born in a suburb outside of noisy New York City, America. He was an only child, or so he thought, and detested by his wealthy parents. His only friend was a maid, and when she disappeared from earth, he rebelled against his parents. He did not want to be rich, because he saw how others suffered and he wanted to help. When he was seven, he met a boy from Canada that was his half-brother, and they attached the other to his hip. They grew a bond with each other and made their own world of them and the boy's mother, who would become the American's in no time at all, where no one was allowed to intrude. The American boy had a passion for the sky and planes and flying and escaping into the air, where no one would have to judge him, and he had a dream that someday, he would find somebody who understood him well and didn't judge him for who he was.

Once upon a time, an Austrian decided he did not like the way of the world and started to take control. Once upon a time, this man started to rule an entire continent one by one. Once upon a time, an island on its own said "No." Once upon a time, that same Austrian ordered the island to surrender. Once upon a time, that island refused to back down. Once upon a time, that island was attacked for months.

Once upon a time, in his own home, the British boy- now twenty and an aspiring writer, one book nearly done- moved to the city of London. Once upon a time, three years later, the British boy was killed by fire that hurt him, and he died without fulfilling his dream.

Once upon a time, the island's forces decided to try and gain its neighbor's land. Once upon a time, that plan failed, and sadly killed most of the second largest nation's men. Once upon a time, the brother of the American boy- now nineteen and a pilot- saved several of his fellow airmen but was shot from behind and burnt down on the land of Dieppe.

Once upon a time, half of the American boy died with his brother.

Once upon a time, the British boy went to Heaven and became an angel, a guardian for those of the Royal Family who had passed. He met a cheerful Chinese, his closest friend, a shy yet kind Canadian, two Italian brothers who were oil and vinegar, but loved each other unconditionally. Once upon a time, the Briton felt safe.

Once upon a time, the American forces fought a battle alongside their British allies. Once upon a time, the American boy- now twenty-one and seeking revenge for his brother's death- gave no mercy to the other soldiers. Once upon a time, history repeated itself, and just like his brother, he was shot three times and lost control to the ground, during the Bulge battle, and burnt.

Once upon a time, this American went to Heaven. Once upon a time, he was brought to a council of the highest ranked, and given an opportunity to defend the haven. Once upon a time, the American still had hatred in his heart, and he denied.

Once upon a time, that American was discarded as an angel and sent back to earth as one of the fallen.

Once upon a time, a group of demons- who would one day work beside him- found him and helped him. Once upon a time, these demons converted him to their side, and told him of the war against the angels. Once upon a time, the American remembered how he had carried on from his brother's death- a kind Irish woman who had given him a storybook from her brother who had died during the Blitz, the same British boy. Once upon a time, the American agreed to assist them with their goals and to find the Brit that had helped him carry on.

Once upon a time, years later, the demons attacked Heaven harshly. The Italian brothers were separated, the Canadian was groped and practically molested, the Briton's Chinese friend was injured severely, and the Brit himself was taken by the American demon.

Once upon a time, the Brit of our story was owned by the American of our story.

But once upon a time, the Briton slowly forced away the feeling of acceptance he felt. Once upon a time the American found who he was looking for and begged to be loved in the same way. His view on the Briton changed, who in turn changed his views.

Once upon a time, the Briton fell in love with the American, and they became attached to each other at all times. They went through hell and back harshly, were separated and abused and converted.

Once upon a time, Angel and Demon fell in love. And for all of time, they hold each other's hands and live and love in peace.

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><p><em>Years later:<em>

"_Hey, Awesome!_" _Knock-knock-knock._ "_Get up, lazy ass!_"

Arthur forced the voices away from his clouded mind and curled more into his lover's snoring body. Upon instinct, he was tugged even closer to the paved chest, a soft hum coming from the American before he settled again. The Briton begged he wouldn't have to get up right now. Not when his backside ached and he was too exhausted to get up and move.

"_Mon chers~! Ze only reason wy you are not answering is because you two are making l'amour, oui?_"

"_Why you crowding hall, get out aru!_"

"_But Yao, zey're having sex!_"

"_Leave! I handle aru! You all too stupid!_"

"Why is Yao yelling…," Alfred questioned quietly, voice half-muffled by sleep and its location in the short burgundy locks.

"Because we live with stupid people," he yawned, wings stretching out beside him before settling again. "Whot's today again?"

"Who gives a damn;" The strong arms of the younger demon wrapped around him. "I'm too tired to do anything today."

Arthur chuckled. "Your arse is hurting too?"

"Like a bitch."

The English demon sat up and rested his forearms crossed on his lover's chest. "I told you to sleep on your back, luv."

"Don't lecture, I wanna relax and enjoy your warmth, dammit."

With a roll of his eyes and a chuckle, he leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips. "Then we'll stay here all day until we get hungry. How's that sound?"

Alfred smiled wide and shuffled so that they were closer together. "Me gusta."

"_Anglais~ we know you're in zere and fucking zat glorious Americain behind zat you possess~- ow!_"

"_I told you to leave, why you no listen aru!_"

"_Put zat shoe- hey! Gott verdammt! Oww-uh! Stop it!_"

"_Go away now, I handle!_"

Arthur groaned. Nowadays, the two of them couldn't get enough peace. Yes, they had had an eternal feel of peace for five centuries. Yes, they were now the rulers of their section of Hell. Yes, they hadn't heard of Satan or any angels ever since their borders were shut away. They were practically secluded from the rest of the world, except for every decade when a solar flare hit their location and shot those standing at the Solar Platform up to the Surface. And even then, those that they shared a home (or those that preferred to never quiet their mouths, which did include Alfred) never ceased their volume. Most of the times, it was quite easy to deal with. But when the Brit and his love were trying to relish in the morning of their post-making-love session, it was perfectly reasonable.

The English demon, with a throw of the blanket and a wince in pain from his backside (it was amazing and simply mind-blowing when his lover pounded every bit of strength he had into him, but a pain to deal with in the morning), lifted himself up carefully and floated over to the door, opening it roughly and surprising the three Sons of the Dark that were standing there. Almost instantly, they scattered down the corridor in fear of being caught by the furious Briton's anger. "You all have five seconds to get back into your rooms and shut your mouths before I cut off your bollocks, rip off your heads, and shit down all of your necks!"

There was silence that reigned the area for a few seconds, and he smirked. No one dared to go near him if he threatened something vital. With another look at his victory, he shut the door firmly and turned back to look at the disheveled-looking American that was now on his side and chuckling quietly.

"Better now?"

"Perfect, my angel," Alfred smiled, and gestured towards the empty spot beside him. After all of these years of being together, and he had never grown out of the usage of nicknames. Arthur was relieved for that. The older, however, hadn't grown very fond of that one particular name ever since they had made the switch, and he gave a groan in displeasure as he slid beside him under the covers.

"Please don't remind me of that, I hate it enough as it is." The Briton had changed over the years. Maybe it was the demonic change, or the shift in power over their land of Hell, but whatever it was, he grew out of his previous state and into a new one, where his loving side was only shown to those whom he truly and deeply cared about, which only consisted of Alfred, Yao and Matthew (and Feliciano, since no one could ever be rude in any way to him). Nowadays, he was stubborn, and scowled and frowned more than ever. If anyone saw him smiling when they weren't supposed to, he would quickly switch to a frown and turn the other personality "on" so that they wouldn't see his affectionate side. Some didn't care or mind, like Ludwig and Kiku, since they hardly bothered Arthur, unlike Francis, Antonio, and Gilbert. They were all on one side, and the three that he always had a disagreement with. Alfred didn't care, as long as he received enough love and care. He had gotten more hyper and friendlier to others, but his true demonic side always kicked in once in a while. It was the younger, however, who always remembered the painful, past issues with the Devil. But it was always Arthur who brought him out of that state and showed him just what was around him and how great he was living right now.

"I wanna call you what I want, though," Alfred pouted, nudging one of the scarlet-haired male's shoulder. Arthur bumped him back.

"You can, silly. Just not _that_ name."

"What's wrong with 'angel'?"

"It brings back too many bad thoughts for me."

He scoffed; "Heh, and you tell _me_ to get my head out of the past?"

Arthur smirked and leaned over Alfred's body. "Don't talk about getting out…getting in is much better." The American wrapped his arms around his waist with a grin and their lips met passionately, smoothing over one another's in desire. The shorter male's legs spread on either side of his lover's hips whilst a long, tanned leg pulled him down and closer. Their nerves, as it always was, sparked off as their purposely-clawed hands and pointed tails trailed over the other, electrifying him in magnificent ways that he couldn't comprehend and making the experience feel as if this was their first time as lovers, even though they poured every ounce and every bit of love and adoration and passion for the other that he held for him and dumped it into their signs of affection, just to show him how much he was loved.

"_Alfred. Arthur. Out. Now._"

The two broke apart with groans in exasperation. Even though they were practically the bosses of this side of Hell and never acted as such unless the time called for it, they were still given orders by everyone and anyone, especially Ludwig.

"Give us a tick," the Briton called out as they both sat up, entangling their limbs and wings and tails from each other. The older looked down at his disappointed lover. "We'll continue later."

"Why can't we just stay in here forever?" He whined, still sitting up despite his complaints.

"Because you quite enjoy seeing me as a human every ten years." Alfred couldn't help but smile wide at his lover, and scooted forward to place his lips against his cheek.

"True, true." He entwined their fingers together and placed a honeyed kiss to the top. "But personally…I would take a thousand of your kisses over anything."

The Brit connected their mouths again sweetly, all lips and nothing else, before he broke apart from him with a grin. "Come on, Luv. Let's get ready to be human, hmm?"

* * *

><p>Alfred and Arthur walked hand in hand to the Solar Platform for the solar flare to hit the spot and send them to the Surface as humans. There was a special chemical in the flare that converted them back to human form for twenty-four hours, but the time went much quicker. Feliciano and Lovino were the first two to make the discovery years ago, when they disappeared for hours and Ludwig and Antonio practically tore Hell apart before the Italian brothers returned in shock at what they had witnessed. Since then, nearly the whole population of their side of Hell (or those that had gone from angel to demon, since they were the only ones the solar flare could beam up without harming) had gone, and it was always an amazing experience and something to look forward to.<p>

This time, the American seemed especially ecstatic about something, humming as they strode to the platform and he swung their intertwined hands back and forth. They all had a couple of minutes to get to the Solar Platform before the flare hit and they were sent up, and already there was a large crowd of the usual demons that went.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked his lover, catching his attention. "You seem a bit off today."

"I'm fine~," he cheerfully answered, starting his humming again. "Why?"

"You don't normally seem this happy, luv, that's all."

Alfred snorted. "What's that got to do with anything?"

The Briton frowned. Normally, when they went to the Surface, Alfred was always nervous that it wouldn't work and they would all lose their lives (or turn to dust, since demons had a hard time being defeated and were already dead) but then he would instantly perk up and start to rush around wherever they were: Mount Fuji that overlooked Tokyo; the Forbidden City in Beijing; the Parthenon ruins in Athens and the Coliseum in Rome; the pyramids in Egypt; the Eiffel Tower in Paris- even London, Montreal and more. But not yet had they visited the States, much to Alfred's hidden dismay. Maybe he had hope that he would finally visit his home this time?

The shorter demon, at first frowning, sprouted a grin. He hoped so too.

When the two finally arrived at the platform, they were surrounded by seemingly thousands of demons of both genders and several personalities and races and appearances. Some were incubuses or succubuses, as shown by those that were making out messily. Others were guards, whose only serious duty was to make sure everyone was well off where they were. And some were those that they knew well, and had seen everything with, and had experienced so much after all of these years of their troubles.

Mathias, who waved at the two, and Lukas were chatting with Berwald and Tino, hands intertwined, while Emil talked with a Chinese demon, Yao's cousin Xiang. Ivan, who had switched sides and gone into exile for years, was chatting with two women, his sisters that had first been captives and he had been so keen on protecting and keeping safe, that he had actually joined Satan and tried to kill Alfred in return for their safety. Antonio and Lovino were flirting and teasing one another, the latter more harsh but with a smile upon his face. Ludwig tried but failed to calm an excited Feliciano, who jumped about and gestured every which way enthusiastically, speaking in a mix of Italian, English and German. Gilbert (whom they had found out was an incubus) flirted with a Hungarian succubus that was standing close with an Austrian demon, and the Hungarian hissed and denied him no matter how many times the Prussian persisted. Francis and Matthew were exploring each other's body and mouths, the younger with one leg up the other's and their tails intertwined. Kiku and Yao, unlike their other friends, were quietly talking to one another- one in Japanese, the other responding in Mandarin. Alfred and Arthur both greeted them with smiles, and the two greeted them the same way, one perkily and the other calmly.

"I feel so old," Alfred whispered with a chuckle.

"Well, technically, you _are_ over five hundred, if you think about," Arthur replied, pausing for a moment to think about it. When they had met, it had been seventy years since the Second World War, where they and most of their friends had lost their lives. Plus, there was exactly five hundred years since they had met. The Brit smiled at the memory, despite how wrong he had been at heart at the time. "Yes, I'd say about…five hundred eighty, six hundred, somewhere in between."

The taller male's face scrunched up in disgust. "Ewww, that makes me sound so old! You're probably like…a million years old!"

Arthur hit his arm with a glare and a smirk. "I am not, you git. I'm just a few years older than you, so we're in the right age barrier at least. I don't even think your brother and Francis are."

"Can you stoooooop?" The black-haired demon whined, pulling on his arm with a grimace. "I wanna still think I'm young and twenty-one like when I died, dude!"

"There's no need to fret, Poppet, you definitely look your age." His scarlet eyes wandered down to a lower area. "In more ways than one."

The American chuckled, and pecked his cheek gently. "You don't look too bad yourself, y'know."

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Are you calling me old?"

"No! I was saying you're hot!"

The Briton rolled his eyes, hiding a smile. "I don't believe you." They had played this game dozens of times with each other, everyone that was a couple had. Tricking your lover into complimenting you and confessing what he liked most. It was a common game that they played, but no one saw it more played out between the American and Brit.

Alfred, however, didn't seem up to it, and turned the shorter so that they were eye to eye, all serious in the younger's scarlet eyes. "Arthur, no. I'm not playing this game."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, and rotated on the balls of his feet, showing his back and spreading his wings to block his view. The younger let out an impatient growl.

"Arthur, I'm serious."

Silence.

"Arthur!"

Still no response. Arthur could go all day.

Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around his waist, thumbs rubbing into his hipbones. A sharp pair of teeth nibbled against his ear and hot breath blew above the shell. "Your body fits perfectly into my hold…," he began, using a husky voice that got to Arthur's ears and heart and his lower area (for some reason, it made him wild if he used that voice). "Your eyes, scarlet or emerald, are beautiful, the way that the light catches them perfectly to make them look like valuable gems. When you speak, your voice is velvet laid out on a flat surface. It's smooth, calm, alluring…" A tongue ran along the outline of his ear, and the shorter withheld a shiver. He wasn't backing down just yet. "Your skin is creamy and smooth. Your eyebrows are adorable." To prove his point, he gently stroked one of the bushy arches with a finger. "Your smile…it's the warmest, most comforting, most beautiful thing about you. But my favorite, besides your eyes…is this."

Alfred steadily reached a hand over and placed it on the left side of Arthur's abdomen. The Briton looked down at it in curiosity at first, wondering why he had put it there, and suddenly realized what he meant.

"Your heart is the most precious object I could ever be given. Your love is just as precious to me. I want to treasure all of you forever. And I promise you…I will treasure you for as long as we exist."

As soon as the American finished, the shorter turned and pulled down his love by his jacket, smashing their lips together. Their tongues met eagerly as the younger male hitched up his lover's leg to wrap it around his waist. Arms wrapped around the other's neck and hips respectively, pulling him closer and eliciting moans from their mouths. Just as they tilted their heads to get more from his mouth, the air suddenly became crisp and chilly, and Arthur pulled away to rub his arms together, now not feeling his leather wings to leech heat from. Alfred looked down at him with worry, and when they both looked up and saw him, their eyes couldn't help but wonder.

Alfred looked just as he did when he had momentarily been turned back to a human. His hair was golden, that stubborn cowlick still refusing to stand, his eyes were as blue as the clear sky, and he looked just as handsome as he ever was. He was in a light brown version of his Air Force uniform, minus the jacket, which was draped down his arm. Arthur looked down at his body to see that he was in a sweater vest, slacks, and black shoes, just as he always was. Nothing had changed, as usual, and he was grateful for that. He could tell they both were.

When the Englishman turned around, however, to see the skyline, he held back a gasp at what he saw. Miles and miles of buildings big and small, a river that ran between them, bridges, a statue of a lady that was holding something in the air, and when he examined the building they were on, he couldn't help but laugh at the sight of one of the tallest points in the city. The American, now pilot, looked around eagerly and excitedly, grinning from ear to ear and laughing, walking forward to lean over the rail to see where they were. Finally, they had ended up in America, and no other than New York City.

Arthur couldn't be happier.

"Do ya see this, Artie?" The younger male beamed wide, and gestured towards the rest of the skyline of the wonderful city. "Look at it now! Totally more modern than I remember it, but it's still beautiful and wonderful and just…" He leaned over the railing. "This must be the Empire State Building! Look at this, Arthur! The top of the world!"

"Tallest building in the world, I remember hearing," Arthur nodded, standing beside him. (**Note: The Empire State Building is no longer the tallest object, but was back then it was. It was also the tallest in New York and I believe the country for about forty years until the Twins were built in the 1970s**). "I remember hearing about it the first time it was built." His hands ran over the rail in concentration, amazed and still a bit in shock that they were both here. It had always been a dream of his to come to America and live in this big city, to spend hours writing and daydreaming. The States had always fascinated him, and now he could experience New York and more of America with Alfred himself.

It took him a few minutes, but the Brit soon realized that a warm pair of beautiful sky blue eyes was currently staring at him. He gave his lover a warm smile, and reached over to grab his hand warmly, standing on tiptoes to peck his cheek.

"I'm so happy you get to see it again."

"Me?" Alfred laughed loudly with a grin, squeezing their entwined hands together. "I'm happy we get to see it together!"

Arthur smiled, resting his head on his shoulder. "Yes…of course, Dearest."

The two stood quietly side by side, palms and heads against one another, their love and adoration obvious, before Alfred broke apart from him and held out a hand. "Would you like to dance to our music?"

The Englishman smiled back at him, and took the hand, sliding into perfect position before the two of them started to move slow and steady, eyes unmoving and breath caught by the other. They were going to be together for as long as time flowed perfectly, as long as the spaces of his hands were filled with the other's and only his, and they were together and in love and complete. What had started out as something that was disaster, had soon turned into something that was beautiful, just as everyone else had. Everyone else had found someone to match and someone to fill the space of their hands, and everyone had found someone to love and adore for his and only his.

Alfred and Arthur had been opposites. They had been Lonely Demon who had captured Lost Angel. Angel and Demon, they were. And slowly they moved into the hole, where their hearts met and were exchanged to the other, in return for bountiful amounts of love that kept them together and loved and never ending. They went through Hell (literally) and back, suffered from the distances that they had had to dealt with. They switched from demon to human, and then back to demon, and from angel to demon. They were American and British but lovers, and as long as they were together and there was peace, all was well.

"Forever and always, I'll hold your hand."

"And forever and always, I'll hold your heart."


	40. Thanks

**To all readers.**

**Reviewers.**

**People who favorited the story.**

**People who alerted the story.**

**People who have been with me from the very beginning. (Anyone still there?)**

**People who have read but did not stay (sadly).**

**People who jumped on board during the story.**

**People who found this story somehow, in some way.**

**People who continuously told me I made spelling mistakes, especially "whot", even though I had already mentioned I'm a realist writer and will write out accents.**

**People who are over eighteen and read tthis story.**

**People who are under eighteen and read this story (like the writer HAHAHA wut)**

**People who laughed.**

**People who cried.**

**People who yelled at Arthur (their computers) to stop being such a lazy ass and just confess your love already omg don't be so difficult gawd Arthur!**

**People who yelled at me to stop giving you cliffhangers.**

**People who yelled at me to stop giving you cliffhangers, even after you had yelled at me once and twice and a bajillion times.**

**People who loved the story.**

**People who made me flail and blush and have a fangirl-heart-attack every time I saw a review.**

**To everyone who ever read this story and got it to where it is today.**

**Thank you.**

**Thank you from the very bottom of my heart.**

**Thank you for being with me throughout the feels and intense emotions that I purposely gave you.**

**Thank you for finding this story actually intriguing and entertaining.**

**Thank you for dealing with my rambles.**

**Thank you for enduring those cliffs, even though there was always another one just around the corner from your mom's house.**

**Thank you for enduring those feels when Arthur was in denial or Arthur was trying to confess to Alfred or Satan was being a Satan.**

**One night and one more time, thanks for the memories, even though they weren't so great.**

**Thank you for getting that song reference.**

**Thank you if you did not get that song reference since I am so lame.**

**Thank you for laughing at my lameness for trying to be comedic.**

**Thank you for recognizing that country up north of the States, Zimbabwe.**

**No, that's not it.**

**Africa.**

**No...Alabama.**

**Thank you for laughing/shaking your head/scoffing at me for forgetting the name of America's hat, Canada.**

**Do you know who he is?**

**No.**

**Neither do I.**

**Thank you for reading this even though it's pointless and it turned out really stupid and yet it was really sweet in the beginning and I don't even know where this is going as of right now pasta.**

**Thank you for enjoying the love between Angel and Demon, Arthur and Alfred, Alfred and Arthur, USUK.**

**All in all:**

**Thank you. :)**

**With feels, the Hetalia-Who-Nerd,**

**Lady Skarlett of Skaro**

**P.S. I'm gonna write a sequel. K thx bye**

**But seriously, thank you! Grazie! Gracias! Danke! Merci! Arigato! Xie xie! Other languages I don't know! Thank you so much to all who read and supported and had feels and fell in love with this story! Thank you so much~! :D**

**(for reals now) Thank you! I cannot say that enough!**

**-Lady Skarlett of Skaro**


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